"Manvil, tell... " He was gone. "Oh, good. Better late than never." Saucerhead had completed his mission. Below, Ty had entered the hall from the family dining room. He was on crutches. Nicks was beside him, trying not to look like she was there to catch him if he fell. Ty was directing a crew from the brewery who were dragging one of those huge, thousand-gallon wooden settling tanks where beer sits briefly while the grossest sediments settle out. Later the holy nectar would migrate onward to occupy the kegs and barrels the customer sees. Questions about the tank stirred every little cluster but people were too wary of their neighbors to ask outside their own cliques. Ty gave me a thumbs-up. I blew him a kiss. We were getting along today. I told Alyx, "Go tell your pop. I just dealt myself another ace. Everything's set and we're just waiting for Relway."
"Waiting for Relway. Right."
"He'll understand."
She went. Tinnie asked, "Think she'll remember all the way over there?"
"You're vicious. And she's your friend."
"You keep that in mind. All right. You've got everybody that you've ever met gathered in one place. What the devil do you plan to do with them?"
"Oh, I'm going to make them all unhappy. Real unhappy. Unless I manage to make me real unhappy by making a complete fool of myself."
"You think the bookies are giving odds? Is there a point spread?"
"Lift your skirt."
"Right here? I can be conned into a little adventure sometimes, Garrett, but... "
"Three inches will be far enough." Her hemline dragged the carpet. "Ha! I thought so."
"What?"
"You're wearing the green shoes. I don't know if they turn you wicked or you just wear them when you're feeling wicked, but—"
"Somebody's here."
Yes. Somebody was. The boys from the Lamp brewery had arrived. They looked sexy in their shiny new silver-plated chains. I'd expected the logistics to be a problem but Relway had been on the job already, having anticipated having to control shapeshifters again, and better.
"Five... six of them. I thought there'd be more. There should be more. Hell, there're only five of them." The sixth was a ringer, Relway himself, in disguise and not really part of the coffle. He was pretending to be a little hunchbacked torturer's apprentice, jingling the ends of the chains. Probably no one but Singe and I recognized him.
Singe showed more courage than I'd thought possible. Not only was she on the scene, she was out where people could see her. She stayed close to the walls, though.
The rightsist types were surprised by her presence but it didn't distress them. Not nearly so much as did the presence of Morley Dotes and Belinda's swagging toughs. Ratpeople knew their place.
Everyone I wanted there had arrived. Singe had not yet found any shapeshifters other than those Relway was delivering but she kept on looking. I was counting on surprise visitors of several kinds.
Marengo North English wove his way through the crowd hurriedly, headed my way. He seemed to cringe from the touch of the crowd. He wanted out of the press, fast. His lovely niece trailed a step behind him. Tama seemed uncomfortable and deeply troubled. Maybe that was because there were so many really bad people around, though I couldn't picture her having much difficulty managing in even the direst circumstances. She'd already impressed me as a first-class survivor capable of cool thinking and quick decisions.
While Marengo had been eyeing the Belindas and Tinnies and Wingers and developing an itch, she had been formulating plans of her own, I was sure. Whatever silverware Marengo still had lying around The Pipes might not be there much longer.
Now Colonel Block was whispering with a fawning Relway. Both kept glancing my way. He nodded several times, started toward the stair himself.
Marengo arrived first. He asked, "Are you ready to start?" Oddly, Tama seemed more interested in my answer than he did.
I was, though I hadn't achieved the perfect and optimal mix I'd hoped for. But the crowd was better than the one I'd expected. The front door had been locked. Sarge and Puddle stood between it and the room, looking like some pudgy guardian temple trolls. Them dressed up formal was a vision to behold. Out of a bad dream. Unfortunately, I'd never get joy out of having seen them looking pretty. I was outfitted in Ty Weider's second best get-up. I looked like some limp-wristed, lilac-scented lordlet bent on embarrassing his family publicly. "Yes."
Singe moved around the edge of the room. Marengo glanced down at her frequently, unhappily. Playmate, Saucerhead, and Winger were never far from the ratgirl. Winger cleaned up astonishly well. Marengo's gaze brushed her a time or three. I wouldn't interfere if they decided they were made for each other. They deserved one another. And I had a parrot that would make a wonderful engagement present.
A glance showed me that the future nuptial knickknack was still paying attention.
Singe drifted off to check Mr. Gresser's crew and Neersa Bintor's kitchen gang.
Block puffed his way to the head of the stair. He clung to the rail, sucked in a bunch of air, gasped out, "You've got to stall, Garrett."
"But—"
"Got a good reason?" Max demanded from behind me, as I made a small gesture that brought a colorful lightning bolt down to strike my shoulder. I guess Alyx had gotten all the way there with the message. Her old man sounded darkly suspicious. Which is probably the healthiest attitude if you're dealing with minions of the Crown.
"I think so," Block said. "Though you're free to disagree, of course."
"What?" I asked. I knew it would be ugly. The Goddamn Parrot cocked his head, the better to hear.
"An acquaintance took the liberty of inviting himself down." Slight weight on the last word. I understood perfectly but Max didn't catch it. Block's way-so-mysterious chum from the Hill had decided to stick his nose in. That was wonderful. That was more than I'd hoped for. That made my evening nearly faultless. That was one snake I hadn't really expected to lure in out of the weeds. Now if just one more old shit-disturber, lately of the Cantard republic, couldn't control his curiosity and chose to become a surprise guest, I would've contrived a flawless machination.
Block continued, "He can't make it for a while yet. And I'll tell you, you'll feel more comfortable once he is here." He winked, a very unBlocklike action. "I think." Meaning Block was going to feel more comfortable. His mystery guest must have been riding him hard.
Max clucked his tongue, irked. Max's opinions of folk from the Hill were blacker than mine.
Marengo didn't seem to be disappointed. In fact, he seemed more relaxed. Then I realized he wasn't listening to us, just to the crowd on the floor below.
I asked, "Is your buddy's identity a secret?"
"He's the Stormwarden Perilous Spite."
Never heard of him, I didn't say because Max got in the first word. "Why?" He seemed distinctly unfriendly now. Could this be somebody he knew and disliked? Did everybody know Spite but me? I'm supposed to know things. It's what I do. Know where to make connections. But I couldn't connect this glorified witch doctor to anything.
"Because the Stormwarden is extremely knowledgeable in matters having to do with ranger, commando, special forces, and covert operations inside the Cantard. He was involved. He has unfinished business. He's been following this since he heard about the dragon tattoos."
How did he hear? I wondered. Would Colonel Westman Block be saddled with standing orders to report certain discoveries to certain interested parties? Might such reports be a condition of his appointment? Why, Garrett, how could you be so cynical? You developing a case of creeping realism?
Block surged onward, ingenuously "I don't know why, Garrett, but that got his attention in a big way. He's been nagging me like the proverbial fishwife. And seems to know more about what's going on than Deal does... " Block decided he was talking too much, which is a liability in his trade. He finished, "Him joining us was his idea."