So.
Why would she be nosy?
Did she have some vague notion about getting back at Tinnie for having fed her so much slime about me?
Morley watched Penny leave. He chuckled.
"What?"
"You missed some real excitement."
"My head hurts."
"It ought to. And you did it to yourself."
Not only did my head hurt, it was still wobbly from the dizzy water. "What did I miss? Besides Tinnie?"
"Winger. She came looking for her pet playwright. He was gone by then. She was hammered. She wouldn't believe Singe. Singe and Dollar Dan got her under control. She went away, then."
"Bad shape, eh?"
"Blitzed pathetic. She's too old for melodrama."
"Aren't we all? But still it happens."
We shared a moment of silence, reflecting on the absurdities of our relationships.
Morley asked, "Is it even possible for men to get past adolescence?"
"Maybe not. I'm missing Old Bones big-time right now. He could share centuries of observation."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he could answer your question. Me, I think we can't help but act like juvenile idiots till we can't contribute to the continuation of our tribes anymore."
"If we were well behaved and thought with our heads. ."
"We're slaves to our little best friends. But the gods had a reason for making us that way."
"A disgusting digression, Garrett. But you're probably right. And the gods made sure that girls are dim enough to believe anything we tell them until they're old. Nature wants that next generation's boots on the ground before anything else."
"Because we do think, though, we make it more of an adventure by coming up with ways to get around Nature."
Morley lost interest. He asked, "Where are we going, Garrett?"
"Nowhere. I'm going to sit here and feel sorry for myself. My head will be ready to explode in a couple more hours."
"I meant in our relationships."
What? We were men. We didn't get into stuff like that. Not seriously. Did we?
"You and Tinnie practically announced to the world that you were going to tie the knot. You moved in together. Then the invitations never came. After a while people forgot. And now you're involved with a totally delicious confection off the Hill. Who must have a love-me spell on her. Even Dean likes her better than he likes Tinnie."
"I'm not involved. Not yet."
"You're sleeping in the same bed. One of you doesn't care who knows. She moved a trunk into your room. I'm pretty sure that qualifies as involved."
"Where did you hear. .?"
"Singe let it slip. Accidentally on purpose, I'm sure. She says the woman has no shame."
"In private. But she does have a sense of propriety. She wouldn't hurt someone deliberately."
This stuff was a lot less complicated when I was younger.
Singe came in. She gave us the fish-eye, favoring me with the magnum variety. "The ladies are here for your evening treatment, Mr. Dotes. And you, Mr. Garrett, need to reacquaint yourself with the bathtub. A change of apparel would not be amiss, either."
She had to be channeling my mother.
"I took a bath last week!" With a vintage eight-year-old whine.
A bunch of stuff happened at once, starting with Dean's announcement of a late supper as the ratwomen closed in on Morley. Dotes got a chance to gobble a few mouths full, then participated in the customary rituals in my former office. Singe went and worked hard in her office. I drank a mug of beer, then took myself up to bed. I had a full belly and the world wasn't going to let me do anything else anyway.
I just wanted to escape to dreamland before my hangover set in.
"I'll be responsible next year, Ma."
When I woke up because I needed to commune with the chamber pot I was no longer alone. Strafa stirred but did not waken. When I climbed back into bed she snuggled against me like a second skin. I found it amazing that she could get so close and still leave me comfortable. I did not stay awake long. I spent those moments wondering how Strafa had gotten in. I didn't remember leaving the window open.
It was open now. The air was cool. Strafa's warmth felt good.
81
Pular Singe was not pleased with her boss, master, partner-whatever she styled me in secret.
She blundered into my room at an inappropriate moment. She gasped something like, "Now I believe it," and went away.
Strafa didn't care. She was preoccupied.
Going downstairs told me, quickly, that the new order had become established fact. Dean greeted Strafa warmly, with perfect manners and no hint of disapproval. Singe was more formal but had put her personal feelings into a locked box. She did not dislike Strafa, she just had problems with all the changes.
It would be hard for anybody to dislike Strafa when she wasn't being Furious Tide of Light. Except for Penny Dreadful. Penny had issues of some kind.
Morley reported that. I didn't see it.
"The girl glares daggers at the woman when she thinks no one will notice."
"That makes no sense. She doesn't know Strafa. Strafa is no threat to her."
"You never know. You up for a physical workout today?"
"You aren't ready for that yet, are you?"
"I'll pace myself. It's you that needs to get busy. You're a tub of goo."
That exaggeration was unkind in the extreme but not far off the mark. I was still weak from my cold but the worst of that had passed. If I used Dean's breather occasionally, my nose stayed open and I didn't cough up chunks bigger than my fist.
Morley said, "It will be fun, getting ready for our personal war."
I doubted that the rest of the world would leave us much against which to execute even one tactical move. Scores were out there trying to make an end to the horror.
I was sure that fear of widespread panic and a breakdown of order were heavy on the minds of movers and shakers everywhere. If fear of a witch hunt did have some basis it made sense for the powerful and privileged to keep the worst quiet.
"We may be fooling ourselves, old friend."
"Doesn't matter. Whatever we do to prepare our bodies and purify our souls won't be a waste."
He was in a martial-arts-philosophy-of-life kind of mood.
I smiled and promised, "I'll do my best!"
"You prick. Now you're making fun."
"I don't like people who say things like that."
"I knew it. You have the intonation perfect. Every word from the little dying girl in the comedy Skuffle."
"Damn. You got me. How did you know?"
"I see everything they put on at the World. Good and bad."
"Who stuck you full of holes, then? What did you see that made somebody decide it was time you took a dirt nap?"
"All right. You got me. I suffer memory lapses. I wish I had one where that play was concerned. Alyx Weider and her pals stunk it up, trying to play kids Penny's age."
"I enjoyed it. Once I got over the old maidens factor. It was fluff."
"You're a sentimental, romantic idiot. Which, my marvelous memory reminds me, Singe was generous enough to point out not that long ago."
"My equally peerless memory allows as to how she included you in that base canard."
"Would that be a musical instrument? Might we find it in the orchestra pit? What kind of musician plays the bass canard?"
"Are you all right?"
"It must be the medication. Or I might just be relieving tension by turning it into silliness. You think we could slide out of here if we did a really quiet sneak?"
"Singe hasn't put a bell on the door yet but I don't think we'd get far. She'd be on our trail. With her nose. Then the Windwalker would swoop down and make us break out in boils, or something. If the Dead Man didn't wake up and freeze our brains in our heads."
"You're probably right."