Dread Brass Shadows

Putting it mildly. "That's my guess."

"Out of curiosity, Mr. Garrett, how is it that you're alive to visit me again? I would think that dwarfish efficiency would extend to setting an ambush.

"I got lucky. Chodo Contague's men turned up the first time. Second time I started ru

He chuckled. It wasn't a nice sound. It was a noise something like the glug-glug of water coming from a ten-gallon bottle crossed with fingernails scraping a slate board.

"I don't find any of this amusing."

"I'm sure you don't, Mr. Garrett. What are you doing?"

I was sneaking toward the edge of the roof. "Somebody's been following me I thought I might get a look at him from here."

I didn't, though. It was so damned dark down there he could have danced in the street without me getting a look I lied, "So that's mainly the reason I came by. To let you know I think you've got a spy on board."

Gnorst grunted irritably. My experience is, his kind are naturally crabby. Gnorst was a paragon of ma

It's hard to read a being who grew up in an alien culture yet looks human enough to make you jump to conclusions. But I had a strong suspicion Gnorst was a lot less unhappy than he wanted me to believe. Maybe he thought having a renegade handy was an asset. I could think of ways that would be true.

"I know what you mean. I've been a regular fountain of bad news all day. Everywhere I go I'm telling somebody something they don't want to hear."

We fenced awhile with words. He wouldn't give up a thing I could use. I surrendered to the inevitable, told him I was going to go dump it all on the Dead Man. He let me go without another word. He wasn't as gracious as he'd been. That questionable attitude infected my guide. The dwarf took no pains to make my passage through the place a comfort.

I froze the moment I hit the street, looked around carefully. Garrett don't get bitten by the same snake twice. I saw nothing. Even so, I moved away ready for anything.

Nothing ever happens when you're ready.

The silence overhead seemed almost ominous. The morCartha had retired, for whatever reason. I almost missed them. They had become part of city life.

29

I had the night to myself. Unless you count sharing with a tail. It wasn't a happy feeling. Empty streets always mean trouble to me.

Whoever was after me was spooky. I only ever knew one guy that good, Pokey Pigotta. Maybe this was Pokey's ghost.

I'd outthought Pokey once when he'd been on me. Maybe I could use the trick again. It was hard to beat for a guy working alone. I looked for a busy tavern I knew would have a back door.

Not my day. It didn't work. I didn't catch anybody sliding in the front door by sprinting around from the back. It was like the guy was psychic. All I accomplished was to let whoever know I knew he was there. Go match wits with a rock, Garrett. Chances are the rock will come out ahead.

Having somebody dog you works on your head. You start out wondering who and why. Pretty soon you're into what if and then imagination flares and you've got a vampire or werewolf or ghoul pack just waiting for you to walk down a dark alley with your eyes closed.

There ain't no comforting thoughts, come a dark night.

Hell with the clown. Let him walk his behind off. He didn't seem interested in messing with me, just in seeing what I got me up to. If I kept moving, he'd have no time to report to whoever sicked him on me.

I was tired and depressed and short on zest for life. Maybe even a little cranky. I get that way when things keep on not going my way. Call me spoiled.

I was near the Bledsoe Infirmary, a charity hospital supported by surviving descendants of the old imperial family, when I sensed a change in the night. It wasn't obvious, just a difference. Nothing I could pin down. My shadow was there still. The morCartha weren't making much racket. Random flying thunder-lizards still ghosted overhead, chasing bats. The streets remained underpopulated. I wondered if it might not be some holiday among the night people

I paused to consider the Bledsoe, a monument to good intentions having become a symbol of despair. A place of fear, where the poor went to die and the mad screamed out their souls in overcrowded, locked wards. The imperial family did all they could, but their best wasn't enough. Their money and donations of labor barely kept it from falling down. It was huge, gray, ugly, and may have been imposing in its prime, a couple of hundred years ago. Now it was just another shabby old building, bigger than but no better than ten thousand others in TunFaire.

I shook my head, startled by an original thought. I couldn't recall ever having seen new construction anywhere in the city. Was the war that big a drain on resources?

The war is the most important thing in all our lives, whether or not we're directly involved. It shapes our selves and surroundings and forges our futures as every minute passes.

Whatever was happening in the Cantard, so heroic the Dead Man could sense it from here, would have a crashing impact on all our lives.

That scared me. I'm not fond of things the way they are, but the only changes I can see will be for the worse. The bigger the change, the more for the worse.

Some tiny sound reached me, some ghostly flicker of motion teased the corner of my vision. I'd been a step too far away from here and now realized it, and my reaction was maybe more vigorous than it should have been. I did me a wild roundhouse kick toward the movement, brought my foot down, ducked and pivoted and lashed the air with a knife.

Crask was saved by the fact that my tippytoe brushed his chin lightly, pushing him back. He'd thrown himself away at the same time. Now he sat on his duff looking up at me with a goofy expression.

"Say..." he said. "Say, what's wrong with you?"

I had so much juice in me so sudden I started shaking. I'd blown it, really. I took some deep breaths to calm me down, put the knife away, extended a hand. "Sorry. You startled me bad."

"Yeah? Well, you got no call..." I shut up as he reached with his left hand. I didn't like the look in his eye. I pulled my hand back before he grabbed it and went to chewing on it.

He got up slowly, using only his left hand. I noticed he had his right arm strapped to his stomach. "What happened to you?" Hard to tell in that light but his face looked a little worse for wear, too. He looked less intimidating than usual.

He got up slowly, rubbed his behind. Damn, he looked embarrassed! Maybe it was the light leaking from the Bledsoe... He didn't have an answer.

I leaped to a conclusion. He'd been the guy Winger had discouraged when Sadler had me in that alley. No proof, and he'd never tell, but by damn I'd put money on it. A copper or two, anyway. I gri

"I didn't sneak. I walked right into you, Garrett."

I didn't argue. You don't with a Crask or Sadler. "What you doing here?"

"Looking for you. Your man said you were headed for Dwarf Fort. I come down this way figuring you'd be headed back by now."

I was going to have to have a talk with Dean. Though it was understandable he'd answer Crask's questions if Crask put on his nasty face. "What's up?"

"Couple things. You seen Sadler?"

"Not since . Not for a long time. Why?"

"Disappeared." Crask didn't waste many words. "Come to see Chodo right after . ." He wasn't going to talk about the incident. "Talked some, then went away. Nobody seen him go. Wasn't told he was supposed to. Nobody's seen him since. Chodo's concerned."