so thoroughly she
couldn’t find me with an army. You could do pretty good with
a hundred thousand, too.”
“That I could. That I could.”
She posed. “And there are ancillary benefits,
too.”
“Yes. Yes indeed. I’ll need some time to think about
what I’d need and what I’d have to do. In the meantime,
I’ve got a friend in the infirmary trying to die. I want to
see him before he goes.”
“Sure.” She didn’t sound thrilled to hear
about obligations imposed by friendship. “I’ll come
back tomorrow if I can get away from Courter and his bullies. Next
day for sure. Maybe you could give that old man the day off.”
She turned on the smile.
“Maybe I’ll think about that too.”
She giggled. “You do that.”
I patted her fanny. “Come on. Off with you. My friend
Morley will be getting impatient.” I followed her to the
front door. There is nothing I can say to disparage the view from
that perspective.
Dean was waiting to bolt up after me, which meant he had been
eavesdropping again. I shot him an ugly glare, but it ricocheted
like water off the proverbial duck.
Morley was waiting outside. While I stood listening to Dean
shoot the bolts, we appreciated Amber’s departure.
“Where do you find them, Garrett?”
“I don’t. They find me.”
“Bull feathers.”
“It’s true. I just sit here like a big old trapdoor
spider and nab them when they walk by. Then I turn on the Garrett
charm and they swoon into my arms.”
“That one is no swooner, Garrett. The one the other night
wasn’t, either. High Hill fluff, both of them.
Right?”
“Off the Hill. I wouldn’t call them
fluff.”
“No. Probably not.” He sighed. “Why
doesn’t something like that ever turn up at my
place?”
“You’re doing all right from what I see. Don’t
get your heart set on this one. You’d be asking for a visit
from the whirlwind. Her mother is a Stormwarden.”
“Another dream shattered by bitter reality. Still,
it’s a pity. A pity—that’s sweet. Let’s go see
Saucerhead and find out which way to lay our bets.”
----
XII
The Bledsoe Infirmary is an imperial charity, meaning it’s
supposed to provide medical care for the indigent. If you’re
in the place, though, your chances improve a hell of a lot if you
or a friend happen to come up with some cash. Human nature, I
guess. I’m not always the biggest fan of my own species. They
weren’t going to let me near Saucerhead at first. He was
supposedly in real bad shape and would be checking out very soon.
Then somebody saw the flash of gold between my fingers and heard a
hint or two about metal changing hands if the prognosis improved,
and first thing you knew the whole infirmary had a new attitude.
Zip! Morley and I were in Saucerhead’s ward watching a gang
of physicians and healers do their stuff.
Saucerhead looked terrible when they started, paper pale after
losing what appeared to be several gallons of blood. He
didn’t look much better when they finished, but his breathing
was steadier, less inclined to the characteristic sighs. I
scattered a few marks and showed that I had a few more that might
want to keep the others company. Saucerhead didn’t do
anything but breathe for a couple of hours. Good enough by me. That
put us a few points up on Death.
Morley spoke only once the entire time we were waiting, in a
tiny whisper. “If I ever get so desperate I come in here, you
come cut my throat and put me out of my misery.” The remark
illuminated the side of Morley Dotes with a morbid dread of
sickness. After this visit he would be on double rations, stoking
up on green leafies and whatnot, for weeks.
Not that the Bledsoe was
anybody’s
idea of
heaven. One look around was enough to curdle a vampire’s
bones. And this was just a ward to die in. The insane wards are
supposed to be ripped straight out of the dungeons of hell. I
couldn’t figure why Saucerhead had picked the Bledsoe. He
was no tycoon but he wasn’t a pauper,
couldn’t find me with an army. You could do pretty good with
a hundred thousand, too.”
“That I could. That I could.”
She posed. “And there are ancillary benefits,
too.”
“Yes. Yes indeed. I’ll need some time to think about
what I’d need and what I’d have to do. In the meantime,
I’ve got a friend in the infirmary trying to die. I want to
see him before he goes.”
“Sure.” She didn’t sound thrilled to hear
about obligations imposed by friendship. “I’ll come
back tomorrow if I can get away from Courter and his bullies. Next
day for sure. Maybe you could give that old man the day off.”
She turned on the smile.
“Maybe I’ll think about that too.”
She giggled. “You do that.”
I patted her fanny. “Come on. Off with you. My friend
Morley will be getting impatient.” I followed her to the
front door. There is nothing I can say to disparage the view from
that perspective.
Dean was waiting to bolt up after me, which meant he had been
eavesdropping again. I shot him an ugly glare, but it ricocheted
like water off the proverbial duck.
Morley was waiting outside. While I stood listening to Dean
shoot the bolts, we appreciated Amber’s departure.
“Where do you find them, Garrett?”
“I don’t. They find me.”
“Bull feathers.”
“It’s true. I just sit here like a big old trapdoor
spider and nab them when they walk by. Then I turn on the Garrett
charm and they swoon into my arms.”
“That one is no swooner, Garrett. The one the other night
wasn’t, either. High Hill fluff, both of them.
Right?”
“Off the Hill. I wouldn’t call them
fluff.”
“No. Probably not.” He sighed. “Why
doesn’t something like that ever turn up at my
place?”
“You’re doing all right from what I see. Don’t
get your heart set on this one. You’d be asking for a visit
from the whirlwind. Her mother is a Stormwarden.”
“Another dream shattered by bitter reality. Still,
it’s a pity. A pity—that’s sweet. Let’s go see
Saucerhead and find out which way to lay our bets.”
----
XII
The Bledsoe Infirmary is an imperial charity, meaning it’s
supposed to provide medical care for the indigent. If you’re
in the place, though, your chances improve a hell of a lot if you
or a friend happen to come up with some cash. Human nature, I
guess. I’m not always the biggest fan of my own species. They
weren’t going to let me near Saucerhead at first. He was
supposedly in real bad shape and would be checking out very soon.
Then somebody saw the flash of gold between my fingers and heard a
hint or two about metal changing hands if the prognosis improved,
and first thing you knew the whole infirmary had a new attitude.
Zip! Morley and I were in Saucerhead’s ward watching a gang
of physicians and healers do their stuff.
Saucerhead looked terrible when they started, paper pale after
losing what appeared to be several gallons of blood. He
didn’t look much better when they finished, but his breathing
was steadier, less inclined to the characteristic sighs. I
scattered a few marks and showed that I had a few more that might
want to keep the others company. Saucerhead didn’t do
anything but breathe for a couple of hours. Good enough by me. That
put us a few points up on Death.
Morley spoke only once the entire time we were waiting, in a
tiny whisper. “If I ever get so desperate I come in here, you
come cut my throat and put me out of my misery.” The remark
illuminated the side of Morley Dotes with a morbid dread of
sickness. After this visit he would be on double rations, stoking
up on green leafies and whatnot, for weeks.
Not that the Bledsoe was
anybody’s
idea of
heaven. One look around was enough to curdle a vampire’s
bones. And this was just a ward to die in. The insane wards are
supposed to be ripped straight out of the dungeons of hell. I
couldn’t figure why Saucerhead had picked the Bledsoe. He
was no tycoon but he wasn’t a pauper,
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