Shadows Linger

Men growled at him. His complaints were grating. Even Asa tossed a nasty look over one shoulder.

Raven had taken the long way, no doubt about it. I would guess we walked at least ten miles before coming across a ndgeline and viewing cleared land which descended to the high road. A number of farms lay on our right. In the distance ahead lay the blue haze of the sea. The countryside was mostly brown, for autumn had come to Meadenvil. The leaves were turning. Asa indicated a stand of maples and said they would look real pretty in another week. Odd. You don’t think of guys like him as having a sense of beauty.

“Down there.” Otto indicated a cluster of buildings three-quarters of a mile south. It did not look like a farm. “Bet that’s a roadside i

“Silent?”

He nodded, but hedged. He wanted to stick to the track to make sure. We mounted up, let him do what walking remained to be done. I, for one, had had enough tramping around.

“How about we stay over?” One-Eye asked.

I checked the sun. “I’m considering it. How safe you figure we’d be?”

He shrugged. “There’s smoke coming up down there. Don’t look like they had any trouble yet.”

Mind-reader. I had been examining farmsteads as we passed, seeking indications that the lump creatures were raiding the neighborhood. The farms had seemed peaceful and active.

I suppose the creatures confined their preda-tions to the city, where they would cause less excitement. Raven’s track hit the Shaker Road a half-mile above the buildings Otto thought an i

“How far are you going to follow him, Croaker?” One-Eye asked. “Bet you he met Darling out here and just kept hiking.”

“I suspect he did. How far to Shaker? Anybody know?” “Two hundred forty-seven miles,” Kingpin replied. “Rough country? Likely to have trouble along the way. Bandits and such?”

King said, “Not that I ever heard of. There’s mountains, though. Pretty rough ones. Take a while to get through them.”

I did some calculating. Say three weeks to cover that distance, not pushing. Raven wouldn’t push, what with Darling along, and the papers. “A wagon. He’d have to have a wagon.”

Silent, too, was mounted now. We reached the buildings quickly. Otto proved right. Definitely an i

A worried fat man came out strangling an apron. His face could not decide if it wanted to remain ruddy or to go pallid. “Afternoon,” I said. “We get a meal and some fodder for the animals?”

“Wine,” One-Eye called out as he loosened his cinch. “I need to dive into a gallon of wine. And a feather bed.” “I reckon,” the man said. His speech proved difficult to follow. The language of Meadenvil is a dialect of that spoken in Juniper. In the city it wasn’t hard to get along, what with the constant intercourse between Meadenvil and Juniper. But this fellow spoke a country dialect with an altered rhythm. “And you can afford it.”

I produced two of Raven’s silver pieces, handed them over. “Let me know when we’re over that limit.” I dropped my reins over the hitching rail, climbed the steps, patted his arm as I passed. “Not to worry. We’re not bandits. Soldiers. Following somebody who passed this way a while back.”

He rewarded me with a frown of disbelief. It was obvious we did not serve the Prince of Meadenvil.

The i

He settled opposite me, regarded me narrowly over a gigantic beer mug. He had drained the thing at least six times since our arrival, which explained his girth. “What do you want to know?”

“The tall man who can’t talk. He’s looking for his daughter.”

“Eh?”

I indicated Silent, who had made himself at home near the fire, seated on the floor, folded forward in sleep. “A deaf and dumb girl who passed this way a while back. Probably driving a wagon. Met a guy here, maybe.” I described Raven.

His face went blank. He remembered Raven. And did not want to talk about it.

“Silent!”

He snapped out of sleep as if stung. I sent a message with finger signs. He smiled nastily. I told the i

Silent did one of those nasty little tricks which amuse him, One-Eye and Goblin. A ball of light drifted around the common room like a curious puppy, poking into things.

The i

“Yeah.”

“Come from a long way off, eh?”

“Yeah. Where’d they go?”

“South. Down the road. Questions I heard the guy ask, I figure they was headed for Chimney.”

I raised an eyebrow. I’d never heard of any place called Chimney.

“Down the coast. Past Shaker. Take the Needle Road out of Shaker. The Tagline Road from Needle. Somewhere south of Tagline there’s a crossroad where you head west. Chimney is on the Salada Peninsula. I don’t know where for sure. Only what I heared from travelers.”

“Uhm. Long hike. How far, you think?”

“See. Two hundred twenty-four miles to Shaker. Round two hundred more to Needle. Tagline is about one eighty on from Needle, I think. Or maybe it’s two eighty. I don’t rightly recollect. That crossroad must be another hundred down from Tagline, then out to Chimney. Don’t know how far that would be. Least another hundred. Maybe two, three. Seen a map oncet, that a fellow showed me. Peninsula sticks way out like a thumb.”

Silent joined us. He produced a scrap of paper and a tiny, steel-tipped pen. He had the i

“Probably a four-month trip at least,” I said. “Longer if they spend much time resting up in any of those cities.”

Silent drew a straight line from Meadenvil to the tip of the Salada Peninsula, wrote, est. 600 mi. a. 6 knots = 100 hrs.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah. That’s why the ship never left. Had to give him a head start. Think we’ll have a talk with the crew tomorrow. Thanks, i

A weak smiled stretched his lips. “Not till today.”

“Right. No. I mean like neighbors disappearing, or what-not.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Less you count Moleskin. Hain’t seen him in a while. But that don’t make no never-mind.”

“Moleskin?”

“Hunter. Works the forest over east. Mainly for furs and hides, but brings me game when he needs salt or something. He don’t come around regular, but I reckon he’s overdue. Usually comes in come fall, to get staples for the winter. Thought it was him when your friend come through the door.”