I am doing my part here, Garrett. But I have no legs.
"Say what?"
It has not been twenty minutes since the little devil fled. You know where she is going.
I thought I knew where I was going. Upstairs. To bed. "More power to her."
Garrett! It has been demonstrated to my satisfaction that that woman is not one of the good people either. I suggest you consider what use she or her father might have for the Book of Shadows Take into consideration their supposed base of operations, an unassailable fortress.
His feelings were hurt because he'd been taken in. He wanted blood "All right. All right." I needed this like I needed another vacation at the kingpin's place. What I did need was rest, about thirty quarts of cold beer, a ten-pound steak, rare and smothered in mushrooms. A long soak in a tub wouldn't hurt, either. "I'm on my way " Why do I do these things to me?
On my way where? There was a whole world out there.
She has to head west, Garrett.
That narrowed it down. There's only one way out of the city if you're headed west.
47
Winger invited herself along. I didn't argue. She could stick pins in me, keep me awake.
We set our watch against the wall, outside the west gate, among the most optimistic beggars in the world. I mean, half the people inbound are destitute peasants looking for the streets of gold.
"Think we got here in time, Garrett?"
I'd taken our lives in my hands and cut through the Bustee, following the most direct route. "She doesn't know the city. Even if she hired a coach, she couldn't have gotten here first." True, logically, but I was whistling in the dark. After recent events, logic didn't seem very trustworthy
I mean, the Dead Man getting swindled not once but three times? That was damned hard to swallow, though for the sake of peace in the house I'd take his word.
I suspected wishful thinking had helped Carla Lindo sucker him. He'd been exposed long enough to have smelled something. He'd overlooked it because she'd charmed him...Hell. I should talk?
"She have any money?" Winger asked.
"I don't think so. Why?"
"I wondered if she could hire a coach or buy a horse."
"She gave us everything she had to hire us."
"She'll be walking, then. Can she read?"
"Why?"
"If I was her and I could read, I'd open that book and turn me into somebody else in case somebody came after me."
I hadn't thought of that. I couldn't recall if she could read or not. My memory plays tricks when I'm tired. "Assume the worst. Watch for anybody with something that might be the book."
"How big?"
I made gestures, as best I could recall what I'd seen in the naked woman's arms.
Winger scrunched down in the shade of the wall, ignoring the glower of the beggar next to her. She closed one eye like she was going halfway to sleep. "Think there'll be trouble because of what sour sidekick did to Easterman?"
"Nah. Shit happens. Pretty often around our place. The neighbors will be happy it was just entertaining this time. One time half the houses got busted up. That's why all the new brickwork and stuff. People that don't like excitement moved out. Nobody else gives a damn. They don't own, they rent."
"I noticed that about TunFatre. Nobody gives a damn about anything but themselves."
Not entirely true, but close.
Nothing happened for a while. I got into a discussion with a bum who was a fellow ex-Marine, mostly about Glory Mooncalled's exploits in the Cantard. During the night, while I was preoccupied, word had come that Mooncalled's magnificent maneuver down there hadn't panned pure gold. Our fearless leaders had, in fact, anticipated it. They'd gone ahead and jumped into a brawl with the Venageti but had held back powerful reserves. Those had continued the pursuit of Mooncalled and had carved him up pretty good.
From the sound of it, once the dust settled there would be no predominant force in the Cantard. We'd be back to the old endless terror, only now with the balance teetering three ways instead of two. That should make the situation there crazier than ever.
I was glad I was past all that.
Winger nudged me.
One gorgeous redhead had come hiking out the gate. She was dressed for rough travel and carried a big pack.
She was in a hurry. Literate or not, she hadn't changed her appearance.
She was in too much of a hurry. Thus, she didn't notice us or know that she'd acquired other admirers, city thugs who thought they had them an easy mark. They cruised along behind, knowing the road ahead would provide ample opportunity. Three miles past west gate you're into wild country already. The hills out there are better suited to raising sheep than to grape growing.
Winger rose with me. She understood the situation without my pointing it out "I got a suggestion you ain't going to like."
"Which is?"
"Let those three clowns have first crack, then take the book from them."
"You're right. I don't like it."
"Think about it. No telling what's up her sleeve. Right? So why not let somebody else take the lumps?" She did have her own style of thinking. She had a point, too.
I was in a foul enough temper to accept it. "You come to TunFaire this way?"
"Yeah. So?"
"There's a big curve in the road a couple miles ahead. Runs around the end of that ridge yonder, to a town called Switchback."
"I remember."
"If somebody was to go over the ridge, they could save a mile and a half, get ahead, and come back this way. We could come at them from two directions. My guess is they'll jump her at the knee of the ridge, Maiden Angel Shrine, or the spring just past there."
"Does somebody mean me?"
"There's a thought."
"Here's another one. She going to be watching behind her or ahead? She running to or from? Who's she going to recognize?"
Damn her black heart. She was right. Carla Lindo would recognize me in a second. I bellyached a lot, but when the time came I headed uphill, cussing all the way.
It wasn't so bad going down the far side. I tripped and rolled part of the way. No work at all, that. But I didn't make the time I should have. I was late getting to the Shrine of the Maiden Angel.
The bad boys had had time to catch Carla Lindo and Winger had had time to catch them in an indelicately exposed posture. When I came puffing along, one was dead and another working on it while the third was unconscious. Winger had just finished tying a half-naked Carla Lindo to a sapling. "You stop for a couple of beers, Garrett?"
"My pins aren't short enough for running down hills." A westbound peasant family studiously ignored us. They would report us at Hellwalker Station, the cavalry barracks two miles beyond Switchback. Riders would come to investigate. Highwaymen aren't tolerated the way criminals are in the city.
Carla Lindo had gotten batted around some. It took her a while to recognize me and turn on the heat. I gaped. Winger spat, shook her head, grabbed Carla Lindo's pack in one hand and my arm in the other. "You going to stand there drooling or are you going to haul ass?"
I shuddered and shivered and broke the spell. "Haul ass. One minute." I squatted, told Carla Lindo, "The cavalry will be here soon, sweetheart. They'll turn you loose. If you don't want to spend the rest of your life explaining to every firelord and stormwarden there is, tell the soldiers that these guys jumped you, then some travelers came along and broke it up. But they took off before anybody thought of cutting you loose."
"Garrett! Please." Could she ever turn on the heat. She wasn't human. I turned to hot wax. "I have to have the book. I can't go home without it."