Whispering Nickel Idols

15

The celebration got started. It rolled along just fine. Night fell. Morley’s waitstaff fired the floating wicks of globular little oil lamps at each place at table. They poured wine, TunFaire Gold, the best rotted grape juice in the world. The bad guys settled themselves and sucked it down. They got happier by the minute. The majority seemed amazed to find themselves having a good time. But whenever somebody cracked a dirty punch line the astonishment went away for a minute.

I was surprised by the number of guests. Not only the underbosses and their lieutenants had shown, but so had Squint Vrolet, Spider Webb, and dozens of other foot soldiers of little consequence.

No matter. Everyone seemed pleased to honor their empress. The fun grew more exuberant without growing rowdier. Louder without getting physical. Food came. More wine flowed. And a whole orchestra of alarm horns hooted and tooted in the paranoid cellars of my mind.

Of the gathering I was alone in not swilling wine. I have no taste for spoiled grape. I’m a beer, ale, mead, and stout man. Though the stout brewers tend to shovel in too much mud.

A baffled Morley Dotes observed from the door of the passage to the kitchen. More drink than food was coming out now.

Would tonight turn out like evenings in the old-time valhalls, where the thane’s men drank themselves unconscious and collapsed on the straw-strewn floors? In their own puke. Among the household livestock and table waste.

No straw here. Darn.

Up front, Saucerhead and his crew had scorned the demon grape, too.

My rat and pixie friends did not immediately fall under the influence, either, though not for lack of trying. I heard Melondie Kadare bitching because the biggies were tracking every ounce of TunFaire Gold. The cheap-ass bastards.

I left my table and drifted over to Morley. “What do you think, old buddy?”

Dotes murmured, “If you know anything, you’re two legs up on me. It’s like one of those temples where they smoke and drink to get closer to God.”

“Yeah. They’ll bring out the accordions any minute. Meantime, what the hell is happening?”

“All I know is, I had to send out for more wine. Look at them. They’re completely messed up.”

“So the bloodshed we imagined don’t look like it’s going to happen. How are we fixed for Relway alerts?”

This gathering would be a dream come true for Relway’s crowd. So how come they weren’t all over outside?

“Don’t worry about them,” Morley said. “Worry about what Belinda still has in her trick sack. All this happy might be part of her scheme.”

Our hostess was being kittenishly cheerful with the top goombahs-with a kitten in her lap. But… “She hasn’t been drinking.” I nudged a cat away from my foot. “That’s a new shoe, hair ball.” Then, “Think she put something in the wine?”

“No. I bought it. From vendors she wouldn’t know. It isn’t the wine. If it was that, they’d be cutting each other’s throats.”

Right. No one was immune, drinking or not. “It’s in the air. The wine just makes it worse.”

“Picture the possibilities if dancing girls came in.”

“Put the old emperors to shame. Look. Even Belinda isn’t immune.”

Miss Contague loosed a blast of cackling laughter. She slapped Rory Sculdyte on the back. Rory bellowed his own hilarity.

Rory Sculdyte was the man most likely to treat Belinda to a dip in the river wearing iron swimwear. Rory knew in his secret heart that he had been cheated of his birthright when Chodo took over.

I told Morley, “You better get back to work. ’Cause here she comes.” Morley did. And Belinda did. I told her, “You need to laugh more, woman. You’re more attractive when you laugh.”

“And when I don’t?”

“You’re still attractive, he admitted reluctantly because it blunted his point.”

“Tell me something, old friend. Why am I having fun?”

“If I knew, I’d get my business partners to come bottle it.”

“Seriously, Garrett.”

“Seriously, Contague. Maybe somebody put wormwood in the wine casks. You saying it’s not your fault? Not part of your evil master plan?”

“I’ll take credit. But I didn’t plan it. No. You know I expected tonight to turn darker. But I can’t go through with it now.”

“Then get on with the business with your father. Save the bad-girl stuff for when I’m on the other side of town. Work some magic here so you don’t have to do the bad-girl stuff.”

“What have you been smoking?”

“I don’t do that. I can dream, can’t I?”

“Not now. Now I need you wide-awake and alert. I’m going to bring Dad out.”