Gilded Latten Bones

34

"Tell me something that makes sense," I told the Dead Man as I settled facing him. Shivering. My teacup sent up clouds of steam.

Life and afterlife have become more structured. Only you seem to consider that a bad thing.

"The world hasn't changed that much, has it? Everybody still wants to unload on me."

He was amused. He did not argue. I heard my mother telling me I had a wonderful mind. Why couldn't I just try to live up to my potential?

The amusement deepened, still absent comment.

"Did you find anything interesting in the Windwalker's mind?"

She believes you would make an excellent husband.

"What?" There was a hit from the blind side.

I know. If she can delude herself that deeply in a personal matter how can we possibly credit anything else inside her scrambled brain?

That was not what my expletive meant. "Are you making up for time lost?"

No. We have no time for amusements. You have chores that need doing. Pay attention. Feel sorry for yourself later. The Windwalker was, overall, as honest as she could be. She is frantic about her daughter. She is in the cleft stick of a quandary that no parent should have to face. Her only child may be a monster in human guise.

I could see the quandary. It might take a stronger spirit than mine to roll over on my own family, though that would save the lives of strangers.

You have done the equivalent. You have the strength to champion the right. The Windwalker's deepest fear is that her daughter may not only be a villain. She may have created corpses for her experiments.

What could I say to that?

Young, undamaged corpses would be at a premium. Many lost souls roam the byways of this city and are unlikely to be missed. Mr. Dotes could have stumbled onto the harvesting in progress. Nothing I have found in his mind rules that out.

"Look, I remember that kid. Her head was messed up because of her family situation but she wasn't homicidal. She was creative. Weird creative, like Kip. Not deadly weird."

You are correct. To that point. But people can change. When they do, it is usually for the worse.

"I take it you haven't had much luck with Morley."

Very little. He is remarkably closed. If he were an animal I might think he was hibernating. Inasmuch as he is intelligent I have to believe that something was done to keep him untouchable.

"He might never come back?"

He will be back. I promise. As the challenge grows bigger I become more determined. I will build him a path of escape. Henceforth, do not be startled if I reexamine every second of your recollections of your time together before you came here.

Clever Garrett got it in one. Morley had started to wake up. Then he had gone away. "Belinda's healer. We need to find him."

Yes. Though I was thinking about what tried to get in through the window.

"Maybe he just decided to dig a hole and pull it in after him."

That would not be in character. Enough. Do your chores. I have a visitor arriving momentarily. She is not comfortable in your presence.

That had to be his pet priestess, Penny Dreadful. He had taken Penny under his intellectual wing when she was little more than a toddler. He had mentored her ever since.

I considered lying back in the shadows at the foot of the stairs just to get a look but thought better of it. I was upstairs being domestic when Penny arrived.