“Of course there is!”
“And you yourself would never use stolen goods-so thatmeans there’s a taint, right?” The girl drove home her logic point by point.“So, if stolen goods are different from unstolen goods, then stolen-ness is aquality added to normal items to mark them as stolen. Am I right? In this case, the coin was already stolen, so I myself didn’t transfer any quality ofstolen-ness onto it.”
Breathing slow and hard, the Justicar sensed the distinct presence of a fallacy. “It’s still stolen property.”
“How about this one? A mathematical proof.” Escalla drummed alittle tattoo onto the Justicar’s skull. “Look, theft is a negative thing. Now aminus and a minus is a positive, right? Therefore, two wrongs must make a right. I just did a good thing, and you should therefore congratulate me.”
The Justicar drew a long, slow breath. “I’m letting it passjust this once because you only took one coin. Don’t do it again.”
“Sure. Fine. Whatever!”
Clamped inside Cinders’ gleaming teeth were three morecoins. Escalla’s invisible fingers carefully closed the dog’s mouth to hide herill-gotten gain from view.
“You all right, pooch?”
All right.
6
The trio stood in a street thronged with crowds intent ongetting indoors before the autumn evening brought the cold. Here in the outer regions, refugees had made rough shelters leaning against the city wall. Their rags were a stark contrast to the bright clothes of the merchants who flowed from the gateway to the city marketplace. With the fall of the Duchy of Tenh to Iuz during the wars, thousands of refugees had come flooding into Trigol. The poor now sheltered in makeshift shantytowns while the wealthy purchased property, patronized their imported temples, and started riots in the streets.
Even on a quiet evening, the city was a strange and marvelous thing. Crowds hurried with heads down, dispersing into the light and warmth of countless houses. Standing with his head craned back to see the rooftops and the painted wooden shop signs, the Justicar took a moment to simply enjoy the view. Excited at reaching a big city at last, Escalla made a brisk flitter-flutter of her wings. Cinders gave a happy wag of his tail.
Many houses! Very flammable!
“Don’t.” The Justicar growled then tugged the straps of hisbackpack. “We’re in no position to pay for repairs.”
The hell hound grinned his pointy grin and kept wigwagging his tail.
Hundreds of things seemed to be happening at once. Mothers, babies, and brats surrounded a puppet booth on a corner. Pack horses, carriages, and wagons trundled down the roads. Taverns spread open doors onto the street, filling the air with sounds of music, drinking, and merriment. The Justicar scanned the street to see if he had been tailed then turned to talk to the hell hound at his back.
“Cinders? Sniff.”
The dog’s nose swung to all points of the compass, snufflinghappily at the richly scented air.
Smell fire! Smell food! Good meat! Hot coals!
“And?”
Smelly socks, pine cones, beer, old leather, new leather,girls, dry bones, warm rugs! The hell hound pricked his ears. Beer! Meat! Coals!
Raising one brow, the Justicar cocked an eye back toward the hell hound. “We are supposed to be locating a magician’s supply shop.”
Escalla stirred, eagerly sniffing the scent of roasting meat from a tavern door nearby. “It’s almost evening. Let’s eat.”
“We have work to do. We have to find your black and whitespy.”
“So where better to ask than a tavern?” The faerie’s wingswhirred. “Come on! We’ve been living on your damned camp cooking for days. Eat!Eat!”
The Justicar stood his ground. “What’s wrong with mycooking?”
Escalla cleared her throat and leaned conspiratorially closer. “All right-real meals? Real meals don’t look up at youfrom the plate and offer to negotiate….” The invisible girl slapped him onone shoulder. “I’m kidding! Now, come on! There might be cake or something.”
Trigol’s taverns were mostly two-storied, wide, andovercrowded. Stomping in through the doors, the Justicar ducked beneath the low ceiling made by a surrounding gallery and walked down into a gigantic sunken taproom. He wondered briefly how the place could be kept clean, then noticed a sink hole and a sewer grate large enough for a man to wriggle through at the center of the stone-flagged floor.
All in all, the place looked as though it had once had another function-such as a public bath, an opera house, or a cattle barn. Theroof arched in a dome high overhead, while sleeping rooms ringed a balcony that rimmed the circular central hall. Tall enough to look over the heads of most of the patrons, the Justicar found himself a sheltered table, planted his backpack beneath his feet, and raised a hand to summon a short, sweating little man who obsessively wiped his hands upon a spotty apron.
The innkeeper was almost completely bald, sporting only a few juts of orange hair, which made him look as though he had been colonized by shelf fungi. He seemed rather over endowed with enthusiasm.
“Sir, sir, sir! Welcome to you, sir. Welcome to you. Welcometo you, sir!”
Leaning forward into the blast of verbiage, the Justicar thumped his elbows onto the table. “I need a place to stay. Is there room herefor the night?”
“Of course there is! Of course there is, course there is,course there is!” The innkeeper finished wiping his hands and began all overagain. “Plenty of room! Big floors, lots of space! Lots of space on the floor!One common copper, plus one for breakfast! Barley porridge! Very nutritious! Nutritious!”
Drumming his fingers on the table, the ranger gave a sigh. “Are there any rooms?”
“Rooms? Rooms? Of course there are!”
“Can I have one?”
“No, of course not! They’re all taken!” The innkeeper beganto briskly polish the table, chair backs, and oil lamp. “Refugees in town.Winter merchants coming in. We’re full, we’re full, we’re full, we’re full!” Theman flicked out his polishing rag with a crack like a whip. A little squeak of outrage showed that he had just managed to hit Escalla’s invisible rear. Keen onhis own voice, the innkeeper seemed not to hear. “There’s only the royal suites,that’s all. Just that, just that, just that!”
Drumming his fingers in impatience, the Justicar growled. “How much are those?”
“Ten nobles each, but that’s because they’re royal!”
A little voice whispered in the Justicar’s ear. “Ask him ifit has a bath!”
“Shhh!” The Justicar rummaged for small change inside hisbadger-skin sporran. “Floor space, then. And bring me a large mulled ale, somemulled ale in an egg cup, and some of that roast beef.”
And coal!
“Yes.” The ranger patted Cinders’ fur. “And a piece ofcoal.”
“Fine sir! Fine, fine, fine!” The innkeeper proffered hishand. “Two coppers for bed and breakfast, and one noble for the meal.”
The Justicar’s mind boggled.
“One gold piece!”
“One sir! Just one, just one, just one!” The innkeeper wavedhis hands in an attempt to fan out the flames of his customer’s outrage.“Supplies are at a premium, sir! The city’s overcrowded, and the fields are allchoked with weeds! Food, sir! It’s almost priceless!”
Angrily paying for his meal, the ranger passed over the coins and watched the innkeeper thread his way off between a heavy crowd of minstrels, townsfolk, and gamblers.
“There had better be bread with this.” The man sniffed thetorturous smell of fine roast beef and felt his stomach growl. “Escalla, do youneed me to make you a seat?”
There was no answer. From his comfortable den inside the backpack, Cinders waved his tail.
Girlie go bye-bye!