With that began the true and tragic adventures of Huma, during the course of which he met and fell in love with a strange woman in a grove in Ergoth, a woman who turned out to be a silver dragon in human form. In the end, Huma and his dragon love stood together to battle the Queen of Darkness and her evil dragons. Though the Dark Queen and her minions were driven from the land, the battle cost Huma and his silver companion their lives.
The play ended, and silence fell upon the theatergoers. The stage became merely a stage again, and the players only players, who lined up to take their bows.
the crowd erupted in wild applause. Gerard sniffed and wiped impatiently at his eyes as he, too, joined in the adulation, for he realized part of himself would always belong to the knighthood he had thought to leave behind. He looked up, startled at how late the hour was. The sun was going down. With a glance over his shoulder to assure himself the stage really was only that and nothing more, Gerard hurried from the improvised theater and into the gathering gloom.
CHAPTER 22
Gerard's first stop was at the jail, where he heard Tangletoe's flute wailing long before he got to the door. The kender could probably walk the length of Darken Wood unmolested if he were playing that thing, Gerard thought. He flung the door wide and hurriedly motioned for Tangletoe to stop.
"But I was just coming to the good part," Tangletoe protested, pausing. "Don't you want to hear it?" He raised his flute to his lips threateningly.
"Maybe another time," Gerard said hastily. "Right now, I, ah, I've come to consult with you about important sheriff's deputy matters."
Tangletoe brightened. "Oh, I've been very diligent about my duties." He looked toward the cell. "Haven't I?" he asked the two prisoners.
A glance told Gerard the prisoners were beyond answering, at least for the moment. Grudge lay in a heap in one corner, moaning, his arms thrown ineffectually over his ears. Randolph crouched in another corner, whimpering. When he saw Gerard, he shuffled toward the cell door on his hands and knees. "Please," he begged. "We'll confess to anything. Only please make him stop playing that accursed flute."
"All right, I've asked you this before, and I'll ask you again. What about Salamon Beach's death?" Gerard asked. "Did you two arrange for the accident that killed him? Tell me the truth, and be convincing, or I may have to take a trip out of town for a few days, leaving Tangletoe here in charge."
"Yes, oh yes, we did! We're guilty. Hang us, please."
"And Sheriff Joyner's murder?"
"Oh, we're behind that one as well," Randolph said, hope glimmering in his eyes. "Yes, and we should hang for that one, too. Hang us twice, only make him stop." He waved toward the kender. "And the theft of Mora Skein's prize carrots?"
"Who?"
"The seamstress."
"Oh. Uh, yes, I'm sure we're responsible for that crime as well. Probably premeditated." He looked up pleadingly at Gerard. "Is it a hanging offense?"
"Hmm," Gerard said, his face scrunched up in thought. He approached the cell. "Turn around."
With a look of confusion, Randolph did as he was told.
"Now lift the hair on the nape of your neck," Gerard told him. Randolph hesitated. "Why? What are you looking for?"
"Do I have to tell the kender to start playing again?"
"No, no!" Randolph said, hurrying to comply. He lifted his lank, dirty, collar-length hair, exposing the base of his neck. There, at the hairline, Gerard saw what he was looking for: the tattoo of the secret gambling society. Things were finally beginning to in some sense.
"What about him?" Gerard asked, gesturing to where Grudge still huddled and moaned miserably.
"Oh, yes, him too!" Randolph said. "Him especially. He was the mastermind of the whole operation, ringleader." He wrinkled his brow, wondering if this might exonerate him from responsibility. "But I was a very enthusiastic accomplice," he said quickly, "I should still hang for it! Get me out of here, please. There must be another waiting spot for the condemned."
Gerard thought he was probably telling the truth about the architect, at least. However, he had his own notions of who had done what, and who was whose accomplice.
He turned to the kender. "Tangletoe, I just remembered. I've got to go on a delicate and most dangerous mission, and I'll need my sword back."
Tangletoe looked crestfallen. "But… but…"
"I'll tell you what," Gerard said, fishing around in the desk for the knife that had been thrown at him in the woods. "I'll leave you with this instead. This, urn, this is a quite rare and valuable assassin's throwing knife. In the hands of an expert, it can bring a man down at fifty paces. So, if you're a good aim, it's an extremely deadly weapon. Are you a good aim?"
Tangletoe looked hungrily at the knife. "Oh, I'm a very, very good aim!"
"Fine, fine," Gerard said. He peered more closely at the kender. "You aren't exaggerating now, are you?"
"What, me?" Tangletoe exclaimed. "Of course not! Why, my Uncle Trapspringer used to say,
Thumblethumb'-that being another name he called me sometimes, you see-'Thumblethumb,' he used to say, 'there's no finer knife thrower in these parts than you-'»
"Good, good," Gerard interrupted swiftly, exchanging the knife for his sword, which he belted at his waist. "Now I'm going to entrust these two vicious criminals into your care once more-"
"What!" Randolph roared. "Sheriff, you, promised! You can't! Why, it's inhumane." He looked ready to weep. "I've already confessed to everything, even the theft of the cabbages."
"Carrots," Gerard corrected, then studied the man more closely. "Unless there were cabbages involved as well."
"Oh, there were, undoubtedly!" Randolph told him. "I'm sure we stole some cabbages, too, at one time or another. Probably eggplants and cucumbers as well. Anything we can steal, we just steal, steal, steal! Believe me! Only please don't let him play that flute again."
Gerard turned to Tangletoe. "I'll tell you what, you guard these two, but don't play the flute anymore unless they try to escape. You need to spend some time, uh, sharpening the knife."
Tangletoe's shoulders slumped and his head drooped. "All right." Then he brightened. "But if they try to escape?"
"Then you have my permission to play your most piercing notes."
"What if I suspect they're thinking about trying to escape?" Tangletoe asked, studying the cell pensively.
"I leave the matter to your judgment," Gerard said and hurried away before the two prisoners could protest.
From the jail, he went to Palin and Usha's house, where Usha opened the door. "I'm sorry, Gerard," she said, "Palin's not here. He's still at the fair." She wrinkled her nose. "He complains about his mayoral duties, but I think in truth he loves every minute of the job."
Golden-eyed and silver-haired, she appeared, as always, exquisitely beautiful, despite the wisps of hair escaping from where she had bound it up on her head, or the twin smudges of paint dotting one cheek. "Uh, actually, I came hoping to see you," Gerard said, struck shy in her presence. He glanced toward the back of the house. "I gather, since you're out and answering the door, the painting is finished?"
She smiled. "Yes. Just in time, too."
"Might I see it?" Gerard asked.
Her expression clouded. "Well, I didn't intend to show it to anyone until the temple dedication tomorrow-"
"Please," he said. "It's a matter of some urgency, involving the temple."