Dread Brass Shadows

27

I trust the light was feeble there, the Dead Man sent Winger's behavior amused him. Is there any likelihood the Watchman recognized you?

"Why should he?"

You are a known character.

That sack of petrified lard was worried about losing his free ride!

He wouldn't have admitted it if I'd set a fire under him but the truth smoldered through. If he lost me, he might actually have to work to keep a roof over his head. There's nothing in this world he loathes more than work.

The fact that he was worried worried me. It was out of character. I take my life in my hands every time I go sniffing around after the bad boys. That never bothered him before It got me thinking and that's always dangerous. Wondering if he hadn't had some premonition. Wouldn't surprise me to find he could peek into the future. Especially after the way he'd been guessing what Glory Mooncalled would do.

"What's happened?" I thought it a perfectly reasonable query. He ignored it. "Be that way, then." I took my question to Dean.

"Nothing," Dean told me "Except that he did hint that he was getting something like a black vibration out of the Cantard. I think he meant he felt something happening down there."

"Oh, my. It'd have to be big." Oh, my, oh, my.

I couldn't believe it was anything but imagination. Dead men got nothing to do but fantasize. But... If something that big was happening, it had to involve Glory Mooncalled.

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. When the going gets tough, Garrett puts his feet up and has a beer I took a pitcher into the office and snuggled up with Eleanor We had us a chat about whether or not I had any obligation, anywhere, now I could be sure Tinnie was going to be all right. Eleanor didn't have much to say, but somewhere along the way, after things got a little dizzy, I recalled that I'd taken on a client, a wee lovely who thought me finding an improbable book could save her father's bacon.

I didn't want to believe in the thing, but people and dwarves were dropping like flies. We were playing morCartha down here on the ground. I was caught in it, like it or not. Somebody wanted me to join the flies.

Dean brought beer and a stern look I asked, "Where's Carla Lindo?"

"Guest room. Worrying." He assumed his human roadblock stance. "She doesn't need comforting. She needs help."

"Yeah. Sure So do I You don't see me getting any. Hell. I'm done waiting for it to come to me. I'll go round it up." I drained another mug of courage, checked my portable arsenal, headed for the door. Dean trotted along behind grinning like an old death's-head.

His romantic notions would be the death of me yet.

I'm immune to romantic notions, of course I'm a block of heavy metal unshakably planted at the center of a plain of common sense, illuminated by the sun of reason.

Right Look up. See the swarms of pigs flying south for the winter9

I hadn't been inside, isolated from the city ambience, for long, but something had changed. Some new level of tension had been reached. There were fewer people out. Those who were seemed nervous. I could see no real reason.

I visited Morley's place but found no Morley. I went away puzzled, headed for Saucerhead's shabby den.

Tharpe was out, too. Not one of his mouse-size lady friends was there to clue me where he'd gone, either. ‘Twas a puzzlement

I went away frowning. Something had to be going on. Especially with Morley. He faded from sight sometimes, but I'd never known him to take his whole crew with him. There'd always been some way to get in touch.

I headed for home.

I got the news from a neighbor moments before I reached the house.

"Big roughhouse in the Cantard, Old Bones," I told the Dead Man. "Word's just in All mixed up Sounds like our troops and the Venageti caught up with Mooncalled at the same time, some place called Broken Back Canyon. No word how it came out yet, though." All the neighbor knew was that the battle had been all-time big. I assumed the northbound dispatches had been sent immediately on contact. The mere catching of Mooncalled was news of major importance.

1 suspected as much. To yield vibrational energies I can detect here... It must be the battle of battles and still going on I would not have expected Mooncalled to be capable of so violent a defense.

"Cornered rats But Mooncalled always did the unexpected.

Perhaps. Let us not concern ourselves overmuch before more coherent information arrives. I sense that you are troubled.

"What a genius. Amazing how you figure things out." I told him about my day, such as it was so far.

Go eat. Let me think.

I did that, without a squabble I was that down, feeling that inadequate.

"He's had an hour," I told Dean, who was thoroughly sick of me hanging around the kitchen. "That ought to be long enough for even a genius." Stomach full, now optimistic enough to have put aside thoughts of suicide, I hit the hallway.

Carla Lindo stepped out of the Dead Man's room. She carried a broom and dustpan. I stopped to gape. Behind me, Dean started apologizing "She wanted to do something, Mr. Garrett. And he doesn't bother her."

"Fine." No broom ever took my breath away. No. She'd Just turned my spine to jelly with a look that should have gotten the fire bells sounding all over town.

I grabbed myself by the collar and dragged me into the Dead Man's room before I soaked the carpet with drool.

She is attractive, is she not?

"Huh? You too." We lived in an age of wonders indeed. The millennium was at hand. He never said anything nice about persons of the opposite sex. But maybe Carla Lindo was opposite enough to touch even the dead.

You have something to report?

Report it may help you avoid hyperventilation.

"I already told you everything."

Oh.. So you did.

Somebody started pounding on the front door. The Dead Man didn't appear interested. I ignored it. Whoever might go away. It was time to uncomplicate my life.

I have been thinking, Garrett.

"Hey, that's great I'm glad to hear it. Especially since that's what you get paid for."

Garrett! Time is of the essence.

"So quit wasting it. I've only got maybe thirty years left.''

I have been mulling this Book of Dreams. it occurs to me that Chodo Contague must soon, if he has not already, discover the nature of the root of all this excitement. It occurs to me that, then, his interest will intensify, passing beyond professional revenge.

"Huh?" He does go on like that "You lost me." Not really, but he does like to feel smarter than the rest of us and the best way to keep him moving is to appeal to his ego.

The more / consider this Book of Shadows, the more sinister and seductive it seems.

I made appropriate noises indicating awed curiosity

We all play roles all the time, Garrett. We all develop multiple faces we don according to the situation and companion of the moment and, perhaps, according to the advantage we hope to acquire. How terribly convenient it would be to have the ability to become whatever we wanted, filling the role to perfection, whenever that suited our whim. He sounded wistful. Having a Carla Lindo around can do that to anybody. How very convenient if we happen to be afflicted with terrible handicaps.

like being dead, maybe? "I get you. But my inclination is Just to squat here till we see how the wind's blowing"

Unacceptable. There is a balance that must be rectified. Not to mention the fact that we have undertaken to aid Miss Ramada I must do some additional thinking on how best to proceed. While / do so, I suggest you cross the hall Dean has installed Mr. Tate in your office. He appears to need reassurances.

"Willard Tate? Here?"

The same.

"The old boy never leaves his compound. What the hell is he doing here?"

You might ask.

Nothing like a subtle hint. "Yeah. Right." I headed for the office.

Tate had taken the guest chair He didn't fit. Too small. Like a wispy. gray old gnome. Dean had settled him with a pitcher He was working on that and flirting with Eleanor. I said, "Three minutes more and you wouldn't have caught me home " Just to suggest that I was a busy man.

He glowered. "Tinnie's taken a bad turn, Garrett "He gestured reassuringly, though. "Won't kill her, they tell me. But it's enough to leave me an emotional wreck. I came here to find out if you've learned anything new"

"Not a lot." I told him about my day

He shook his head slowly, angrily, looked at Eleanor as though he was talking to her "I'm wasting my time and yours ! know that. But I couldn't work Couldn't sit still " As he spoke he changed, gaining an edge of steel "I want to meet this woman who calls herself the Serpent. I want to tell her a thing or two."

"She's a witch, Mr. Tate. And not any tealeaf reader, either Not easy to reach and big trouble if you do. Moreover, my partner has cautioned me that Chodo Contague should be developing a more than passing interest in her " I explained why.

Tate rose. He would have paced had there been room. "I don't like seeing Tinnie hurt, Garrett. Nor any Tate. Especially not for no reason. I won't endure it. Chodo isn't a problem. I have money. I have proven connections. I can buy myself a stormwarden if I care to."

"Sounds like the frying pan to the fire to me. Suppose you do buy you one. What happens when he figures out whatthe book is9"

"I don't much care

"You ought to. I do. We have obligations that transcend—"

"Crap."

"It's not quite law of the jungle and survival of the fittest out there, Mr. Tate. Not yet. And that's mainly because some of us do what's right. Listen to me. That book is evil incarnate. Even if every character recorded in it is as sweet and naive as Tinnie, the book is an instrument of darkness Its only use can be to do evil."

Was this me speechifying? My oh my.

I'd started thinking about how I could use the book myself. I suspected anybody who heard about it would do the same. Human nature. How could anyone who possessed it resist abusing the power it would confer?

"Think about this. If the Book of Shadows didn't exist, would Tinnie be a step from death's door? How about all the people who've already died because of it? It's pure evil because it brings out the worst in everybody."

In his best moments Tate looks like he's noshirig lemons. This wasn't one of his best times. "I think you're splitting hairs, Garrett. That book didn't kill anybody. People made decisions and acted on them. Only then did people die."

"Those decisions were warped by knowledge of the existence of the book."

"You're quibbling. We're quibbling. Why? Are you trying to get money out of me? Why on earth are you sitting there talking to me at all?"

Best question he'd asked so far. "Courtesy, Mr Tate. Courtesy."

"Why don't you toss me out? I'm just art old pain in the ass who's keeping you from doing something useful."

He was in a mood, he was. "You have a suggestion what? Maybe I should rent a horse and go galloping around yelling ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are.'

His control had grown ragged, but he actually gave my question consideration.

"I'd like to do something, Mr. Tate. I want to do something. My style is to grab loose ends and keep pLcking till things unravel. But I'm having trouble finding any loose threads. All I can do is keep getting in the way and hope that leads somewhere Meantime, I keep tripping over all these other people who're looking themselves."

Willard Tate wasn't a wealthy man because he let his emotions rule him. He clamped down. He thought. He told me. "You have resources. The girl. The dwarf chieftain. Those men who work for Contague. Find those two. Keep an eye on them. Let them do your hunting."

He was a storehouse of ideas, all right. Crazy ideas. Follow Crask and Sadler around? Why not just tie boulders to my toes and go for a swim? Save us all time and trouble.

"They're only men, Garrett. Chodo's just a man. You've faced down stormwardens. You've invaded a vampire nest. Did those things use up all your courage and leave you a crippled old man, too?"

He was a manipulator, that guy. "No. What did he want, really?" I hadn't yet gotten a real grip on the fact that he was here. Had he slipped his moorings?

"Money and contacts, Garrett. I've got them Chodo Contague doesn't intimidate me. I want this Serpent creature. Get her for me Destroy her book if you want. It means nothing to me Just get me her. My mind is set. I'll pay whatever it costs. If you have to work through Chodo Contague, do it. Tell me what you need and I'll provide the tools. But don't sit there cringing."

I wasn't cringing, but wasn't going to argue. He'd started sounding like a candidate for the cackle academy. Having him behind me was all right but preferably far behind and not on any crusade.

How do I get into these messes? I glanced at Eleanor. "Why me?"

Hell. I should get out of this racket Welder still wants me at the brewery. I could handle security there, work regular hours, and never worry about getting caught up in any wackiness.

A book of shadows that lets somebody change characters like I change socks. Come on. I don't need it.

Tate and I looked at each other for a while. We drank some beer. He had his anger worked out now and seemed abashed. I'd never seen him that way, but in this world anything can happen.

The pitcher went dry. I called Dean. Carla Lindo came. Tate squeaked. The resemblance to Tinnie was strong in the weak light. I said, "This is Carla Lindo Ramada, Mr. Tate. The lady the assassins were after."

He stared. "I understand their mistake. Speaking of which, I made a big one coming here. Made a real fool of myself, eh? Let me get out of your way, Mr. Garrett." He rose, still staring. Carla Lindo was embarrassed.

His sudden change of attitude left me twitchy. I didn't believe it but didn't know him well enough to guess what he was thinking.

But I had the Dead Man to explain it to me. I said, "I'll see you to the door."

Tate was still looking at Carla Lindo when I closed the front door. A platoon of his relatives awaited him out there. Tinnie was the only Tate who went around alone. I wished that just the once, she'd clung to family custom. I'd just as soon I'd never heard of the Book of Dreams.