Gilded Latten Bones

18

Sound came from the bed. I dropped Jon Salvation's omnibus of masterpieces. I thought Morley was choking.

He was. On words. His eyes were open. He was trying to talk.

His eyes were wild. He did not want to know where he was or what was happening. His latest memories were of being stabbed. Seeing me did not help. He did not recognize me.

Time was on my side. He wasn't going anywhere. He had neither the strength nor the will to do so. He was feeling every wound. One try to get up left him clear on how he would spend his next few weeks.

He didn't quite scream. He wasn't loud enough to bring on the rest of the house. He lay there panting, collecting himself. He did recognize me now.

"You finally irked somebody a little too much. Maybe laid your blessings on the wrong wife or daughter."

He made a sound of negation.

"Then it's business or your past catching up."

He did not respond. He turned thoughtful. Since he was supposed to be an honest restaurateur these days, I surmised that he was mining memory for a connection.

He continued not to respond.

Should I put aside the notion of a vengeful revenant? There would be few such who remained alive and dangerous. The Morley I knew when we were younger didn't leave live enemies behind.

He lapsed into sleep, then wakened again a few hours later still unable to speak. He did make me understand that he was thirsty.

He was asleep when DeeDee and Crush came for the evening cleaning and feeding. I did not share the good news. I wanted them out of the way quickly.

Miss Tea looked in during the cleanup but left without saying anything.

Morley went for a long, deep doze. When Jon Salvation became too much for me-I kept hearing his irritating, whiny, scratchy voice as I read-I turned down the lamps, sprawled on the cot, and got busy doing some snoozing of my own.

At some point I halfway wakened with the vague notion that Morley was trying to say something. Very mechanical and as clear as a falling-down drunk speaking his native tongue. Later still, I halfway wakened thinking something was trying to open the window. The glass squeaked. The frame creaked.

There was a flash and bang outside, followed by yelling and screaming. The shrieks of Civil Guard whistles followed. I saw nothing when I got to the window. There was no light. There was a heavy overcast.

I heard nothing more till early birds DeeDee and Hellbore wakened me by banging the door against my cot.

Hellbore. Wow. What a marvelous name. I would honor her preferences and call her Crush.