Gilded Latten Bones (12 page)

“You wouldn’t be one of those yourself, would you?”

She seemed genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“Last time I was involved in weird goings-on involving secret labs and illegal experiments, your daughter and her friends were in the middle of it. You and your father went balls to the wall to make sure they didn’t get eaten alive for their foolishness.”

“Kevans isn’t involved this time. I don’t think any of the Faction kids are.”

Kevans’ gang of misfit genius friends called themselves the Faction.

“How come it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself?”

“I admit it. Kevans does lie to me. When I see her. Which is hardly ever anymore.”

“She’s not living with you?”

“She has her own place. I don’t think she learned much last time. And I’m scared that some of her other friends might be involved. Or might know who is. And Kevans wouldn’t say.”

“Teen solidarity. But, involved in what?”

“Exactly.”

“Teen solidarity usually collapses in the face of real consequences.”

“I don’t think Kevans is involved.” She was waffling based on wishful thinking. “But she might be close to someone who is. I don’t want to press her. Our relationship is complicated and fragile.”

“I know. But how come you’re here?”

“Let me tell you about my week.” Which she did, wasting few words. “When the business on the edge of Elf Town broke Prince Rupert asked me to investigate. That ended after we found the warehouse where somebody was using parts from dead bodies to assemble custom zombies.”

“Singe told me.”

“I thought she would. She got warned off before I did.”

“Uhm?”

“What did she tell you about that hellhole?”

I sketched Singe’s report.

Furious Tide of Light said, “The girl who stayed in that room and slept with that stuffed bear was no captive.”

Singe was sure the room’s inmate had been a girl, too. “Singe said she was young.”

“In terms of socialization, possibly. But no child would have the strength and knowledge to do what she was doing.”

I ruminated briefly, then said, “An old woman. A goat cart. Something that behaved like and might have been a giant slug. Two dead men, cut down by sorcery...”

“Who have vanished. I was kept away from them. The old woman vanished, too. Cart and goats have gone the way of the dead men.”

“And nothing has happened since.” I guessed because I hadn’t even been fed what the mushrooms get.

“Nothing.”

“But you’re worried about Kevans. You’ve developed some disturbing suspicions.”

“Not really. I have some fears. I’ve been unable to support them, which is a good thing. I am intuitively convinced that we’re dealing with someone young, female, powerful, rogue, and entirely amoral, though.”

“I see. But back to basics. How come you’re here? What do you want from me?” I was determined to make a fully adult effort to remain faithful to the redhead in my life.

“I want to hire you. I think. I remember you from before.” The lighting was feeble but it was enough to reveal her embarrassment.

“I’m taken.”

Wan smile, without comment, in a manner that said exactly what she was thinking. My defenses were male defenses. And she did have a power besides intuition and flight. She could excite the statue of a dead general if she chose to turn it on.

I had seen her reduce a crowd of skilled tradesmen to drooling idiots with no conscious effort.

But tonight she was totally serious.

I wished I knew her situation better. She said she was estranged from her father and daughter. How much so? Her father had run every detail of her life, back when, despite her being one of the most powerful sorcerers in the kingdom. She had not been long on social skills. I couldn’t imagine yesterday’s Furious Tide of Light surviving on her own.

I shifted the subject. “What about the other Faction girls? I don’t recall them that well. Could one of them be our resurrection man?”

“I only knew the ones that came to our house. They were all odd. There were more than I saw. Kids came and went. Some never really belonged to the clique.”

“And some were cross-dressers. Including Kevans.”

“That, too.”

“Any of those kids connected to the Royal Family?”

She shrugged, not surprised. She had considered the question. “Not that I know of.”

“What’s the mood on the Hill?”

She frowned. Maybe she hadn’t thought about that.

“This will reflect on all of you. You want to police yourselves. This makes it look like you need outside help. The villain fled to the Hill twice.”

“No. Toward the Hill.”

I had to give her that. The monster may have done that as misdirection. “What are your neighbors saying?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have much to do with them. I’m not comfortable with the ways they think.”

The mental work behind the mad laboratory only exaggerated the attitudes of most Hill folk. Furious Tide of Light was the most sane and least dangerous of any I’d ever met.

“All right. Let’s lay it out. Straight up honest. What do you want?”

“I don’t want to be shut out. I guess Prince Rupert doesn’t trust me after the thing with the giant bugs.”

“Understandable. That involved another secret lab.”

“I know. I see why he might think what he’s thinking. That doesn’t change what I feel. I want you to help find out what’s really going on.”

“All right. You’re worried about your daughter. But why not stand back and let the professionals do their job?”

She did not offer an answer.

“So. You’re not just worried. You want to be a step ahead so you can cover for her again. Even if she’s behind the ugliest criminal incident we’ve seen in years.”

“Yes. Sort of.”

“Then Prince Rupert did the right thing when he shut you out.”

“She’s my baby, Garrett. I can’t just let her...”

“And you can’t keep covering. If she can’t get a handle on the concept of consequences she’ll just keep getting into trouble. You saw the inside of that warehouse. And six people died in two days. You can’t make excuses and cover up something like that.”

She shrugged. She was near the point where many women turn on the waterworks. She refrained.

32

A tree fell in the wilderness inside my head. Lucky me, I was there to hear the thud. “You’ve been thinking about this since you saw that stuffed bear.”

She admitted, “Your ratgirl friend made me think you were more involved than you said.”

“Singe was working for Belinda Contague. She’s an independent operator. I don’t live here anymore. Which you know. Because you checked up.”

She nodded.

“Then you know my real part in everything.”

“You’re really babysitting your friend.”

I nodded.

“Don’t you want to know who did it?”

I nodded again. “But I’ve gotten patient in my old age. I won’t do anything till Morley is ready. If the Guard or the Syndicate haven’t dealt with it by then we’ll see what we can do. It seems odd for you to be pushing revenge when you’re afraid your daughter might be involved.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared and out of my depth. You’re the only one I know who does what you do.”

I believed her. Including that she would hire me when I might head straight for the kid she wanted to protect. She had been sheltered her whole life.

“So you figure on defying the Prince — for Kevans’ sake, even though the best thing now would be to let everything take its course.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing! I never learned how. All I’ve ever had to do is be the Windwalker, Furious Tide of Light. I can do that. I can scatter an enemy regiment. I can bring down a castle. But I never learned how to raise a daughter. I never dealt with the quotidian world. Barate handled that so I could focus on being a prodigy.”

I wanted to ask about her father but suspected that he would be an unwelcome subject.

“Let’s back up to when you got the idea that Kevans — or the Faction — might be involved.” I would be covering ground already trodden but she seemed inclined to lurk in the shadow of the truth, now.

“In that warehouse. In that room. That stuffed animal belonged to Kevans. Though I haven’t seen it for years.”

“You’re sure?” I reminded myself that the simplest and most obvious explanation is usually the right one.

“There were other things that reminded me of the Faction. Rupert got the same feeling.” So she had seen the Prince at her party.

“You need to talk to Kevans. Straight up, woman to woman, no drama. Then see Rupert again. Be square with him. He’ll be square with you if he’s really a friend. You might even talk it over with Barate. You’re operating on emotion right now. Mostly on fear. You need good information. And you need to decide where you stand on the crime itself, personalities aside.”

“I hoped you could gather the information.”

She wasn’t hearing me. “Don’t take the dark side in this. It will just destroy you.”

Her jaw tightened. She was going to get stubborn.

“Talk to those people. You have to realize that they’ll go hard after whoever created that lab. The Hill is probably a turned-up ants’ nest. Nasty people are going to start poking haystacks and turning over rocks.”

Her expression told me that she hadn’t really considered the reaction of her own class. Those people take a dim and lethal view of rogue sorcery.

“You’re sure you won’t help me?”

“I can’t. Not how you want. Not however much I would like to. I have to stay here, with my friend. That goes to the bedrock of who I am. I’m here even though it could mean the end of my relationship with a woman who...”

She cut me off. She didn’t need to hear that. “All right. I won’t put you in harm’s way. I’ll do the digging and use you as a sounding board. You just tell me what to do and how to do it.”

Startled, I realized that we were not alone. I’d caught the ghost of a sense of amusement from down below.

“I’ve told you the first thing. The most important thing. Talk to people. An honest exchange could save us all a ton of trouble.”

She didn’t like that idea.

“If this is going to happen you have to put aside your quirks. You have to gut it up and go face-to-face. Promise me you’ll see Rupert, Barate, and Kevans if you can, tomorrow.”

I felt a ghostly touch of approval.

This would be interesting. I could play Dead Man in the web, directing the hoof work while I crocheted doilies.

“All right. I can’t go out but I can help. You ready to put money into this?”

“As much as it takes.”

“Curb the emotion. Emotion won’t solve anything. Besides seeing the Prince, Barate, and Kevans, here’s what I need you to do.”

The intensity with which she listened was embarrassing.

33

I was groggy from lack of sleep when I toddled down for breakfast. I missed a step, lost my balance, and might have busted something if my flailing right hand had not snagged the rail on the left side of the stair. I ended up on my belly, shaking, aching in one bruised knee and embarrassed when Singe appeared at the foot of the stair.

“You all right? What happened?”

“Gravity ambush. I think I’m good. Though I might end up wearing a peg leg.” I was starting to hurt where I banged my left hip on the edge of a step. “Let’s see if I can make it the rest of the way without killing myself.” I turned loose of the rail.

“If you are going to kill yourself, don’t do it here. I’m too weak, and Dean is too feeble to shift a corpse.”

I sensed amusement from old butterbutt.

Dean had come out to investigate. “We could cut him up into smaller pieces.”

“That would make a mess. But we could infiltrate him into the resurrection scheme that’s got everybody excited.”

“Everybody?” I made it down without further mishap.

Dean said, “Tea’s ready. Sausages and rolls are warming.” He slipped back into the kitchen.

Singe said, “Good thing you weren’t carrying your pot when you did that.”

“Yeah. Good thing. But why would I be...”

“Because Dean is having trouble getting up and down. He needs to keep both hands on the rails.”

“Got it. Now tell me about everybody being excited.”

“The news about the murders and the resurrection lab got out.”

Not surprising. Too many people knew. Which I mentioned.

“You’re right. I hear the public reaction has been strong. Maybe that’s because they’ve gotten spoiled, shaded by the Civil Guard and the Unpublished Committee. Unorganized crime isn’t a commonplace anymore. Something like this spooks people. They want it fixed. Fast.”

We moved into the kitchen. Dean was just settling my breakfast onto the massive little table. He placed a bowl of stewed apples opposite me, Singe’s favorite food. My hip bone barked when I sat down.

I asked, “How is Morley?” I’d drop in as soon as my belly was full.

“Unchanged. But healing. Doing well, physically.”

“But?”

“Something inside doesn’t want to come back. So I’m told.”

“He did try, early on, at the other place.” I had a momentary notion about him getting lost in Faerie, a willing captive of illusion.

“And then he decided not to try anymore.”

“Is
he
working on it?”

“Of course. He says it might take a long time. It’s some of the finest, most delicate work he’s ever done. What do you think of the rolls?”

“I like them. Spicy. Sweeter than I’m used to.”

“They’re from a specialty bakery I found in Fointain Lane. Looks like you’re done. Get on with your chores. You slept in so you’ve only got an hour before the meeting.”

“What chores? What meeting?”

“We talked about this. You need to make up your room, deal with your pot, and gather your dirty clothing so it can be laundered. Then you have to deal with the trash. The dust-man’s wagon will come through the alley this afternoon.”

Changes, changes. They come in a blink of the eye these days.

My eyes must have been the size of saucers. I got the sense that Old Bones would have busted out laughing if he wasn’t so far gone he no longer exercised a respiratory function.