Being what she was, she naturally stoked the drama on her declamation, then clammed up, leaving her answer obscure.
I tried asking questions. That was a waste of time. She was done talking about gobblewhat. She closed the subject by saying, "That was spur of the moment. What did you really want?"
There was no point playing games. "Are you still in business? I'd like to buy a few of your special tools."
She ripped off a first-class witch's cackle. It was hilarious. I grinned. The peafowl even got into the act, though their mirth was confused and sleepy. "Go around to the front door," she told me. "You'll find it unlocked."
When I rejoined Morley and the triplets, I carried five tiny, folded pieces of paper. I had hidden each carefully. Each bore a potent and potentially useful spell. I was still repeating the witch's instructions to myself. Basically, all I had to remember was to unfold the papers at the appropriate moment, though a couple required a whispered word at the right time.
Morley said, "So. You survived the trail. I was about to go looking for you. What now?"
"We go back and get what sleep we can. Then early tomorrow we hit the road for Fort Caprice."
"I thought you were going to let the centaur do the finding for you."
"Contrary to the false notion formed earlier, I don't trust him to do anything. If he comes through, fine. Meantime, I go on looking. He expects us to hide from him. I can't think of a better place than out in the Cantard. Two birds, one stone."
Morley was as thrilled as I might have expected. "I had to ask, didn't I?"
32
Fort Caprice was a bust.
It was four days out of Full Harbor, pushing hard all the way, shielded every step by more luck than any five fools deserved. Not only did we not encounter one of our own Karentine patrols, but we didn't fall in with Venageti rangers or representatives of any of the nonhuman races of the Cantard, most of which are at least marginally involved in the war. Their loyalties shift like a chameleon's color, according to where they think the most profit lies.
Fort Caprice was not in the heart of the caldron, though. The richest silver country lay a hundred miles farther south.
Major Kayeth Kronk proved to be brevet-Colonel Kronk now, at the tender age of twenty-six. I did not remind him that we had met before, though I'm sure he remembered me before we reached the end of our short interview. I told him I was looking for his sister Kayean, and told him why. And he told me that he didn't have a sister Kayean.
And that was all he would say about it. When I kept after him he got stubborn. Then he got mad and had a couple of soldiers show me the street.
We poked around among the hangers-on Fort Caprice had acquired—like fleas, ticks, and worms to a hound—and found out nothing more interesting than which men were watering their wine and which women would send you away with something you hadn't had when you arrived. So we made the four-day journey back to Full Harbor, with fool's luck cleansing the way ahead of us again.
It was a lovely time to visit the Cantard.
I hoped the centaur would come through so I wouldn't have to do it again.
That would be tempting fate a bit too far We were out of Full Harbor nine days, all told.
33
The major from the military city hall was waiting at the gate through the Narrows Wall. There was nothing magical about it once I realized that without sorcery, a trip to Fort Caprice takes a predictable amount of time. He cut me out of my herd.
"Any luck?" he asked.
"Zip. Zero. Zilch. What can I do for you?"
"I have another list of names."
"And getting my reaction is important enough for you to lay in wait for me out here?"
"Maybe."
"Fire away."
He did.
I knew five of the twelve names this time. Father Mike. Father Rhyne. Sair Lojda. Martello Quinn and Aben Kurts, of Denny's old crowd. I admitted knowing the latter two only as friends of a friend, saying I thought they were in shipping. Then I asked, "What ties this together? What's up?"
"All these people, and three more for whom we have no names, have died or disappeared during the last eleven days. I'm certain you would recognize more if you saw them. Imelo Clark was a guard at the civil city hall. Egan Rust was a clerk there. You interviewed them. I was not sure you had any connection with Kurts and Quinn, but since you did, then I assume there's also one with Laught and the three unknowns, all of whom seem to have come off a yacht from TunFaire."
"What the hell are you trying to say?"
"Don't get your hackles up, Garrett. You're safe. You were out of town during the excitement. In fact, the only time I place you or yours near anyone at a critical time is Father Rhyne. I'm satisfied your associate found him dead."
I didn't say anything. My thoughts were pounding off in twenty directions. What the hell was going on?
"It seems apparent that, in most of these cases, someone is cleaning up after you. It's a wonder you haven't been turned invisible yourself."
Thoughtlessly, I admitted, "It's been tried a couple times."
He wanted details. He demanded details. I gave him some without mentioning centaurs or dead men or much else that would do him any real good. He thought it was crafty of us, setting the one group up for a career in the mines.
He observed, "I have a feeling that there are a lot of things you wouldn't tell me no matter how nicely I ask. Like where the others from TunFaire fit in."
"I wouldn't be even a little shy about telling you that if I knew. What's the story on them, anyway?"
Kurts and Quinn had died the evening we left Full Harbor. They had been found in an alley on the far south side. At first it had looked like they had fallen foul of robbers. Laught—identified because his name and that of the yacht were stitched on the inside of his jumper—died later that night in the graveyard where Kayean and I had played when we were kids. At almost the same time a tremendous explosion and fire had consumed the yacht. No one knew how many had died in that. The unburned remains of the yacht had sunk. It was a miracle the whole waterfront hadn't gone up.
"That's pretty rough stuff," I said. "The stakes must be big. I don't want to sound dumb or impertinent, but what's your interest? Seems to me it's a civil problem, gaudy as it is."
"Full Harbor's reason for existing is military. Anything gaudy could effect the city's military situation. Garrett, I'm convinced you know things I want to know. But I'm not going to press you. When you feel like baring your soul, drop in. And I'll trade you the name of the man she married. Meantime, I'll just use you as a stalking horse."
"Yeah." I waved bye-bye, but my heart was not in it. I was pondering that equine-derived chestnut.
Morley and the triplets joined me. "Who was that?" Morley asked. I told him. He asked, "He have anything interesting to say?"
I told him all that, too.
"Gang warfare and vampires," he mused. "What a city."
"Vampires?"
"Several people claim they were attacked this week. It's all the talk. You know how those stories get going. People will see vampires in every shadow for a month."
34
We slept at the same inn. We couldn't be safer elsewhere, and the quarters were the best available for grolls.
The innkeeper had five messages for me. They were from Zeck Zack, had come at a rate of one daily, and had become increasingly strident. I got the impression he wanted to see me.