Book 13 - Gilded Latten Bones by Glen Cook Page A

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.

19
    This time Morley woke up while the women were ministering to him. I got to witness another of those fascinating, inexplicably repugnant things that happen around him.
    Two professional comfort women went red with embarrassment when he opened his eyes.
    I just leaned against the wall, out of the way, and marveled. Un-bee-leave-a-bull!
    DeeDee was in a charitable mood. Or needed to overcome her shyness by diverting her attention toward an unthreatening target. “There was some excitement out there again last night.”
    I’d almost convinced myself that I had dreamed it. “I hope it was less deadly than before.”
    “I think it was pretty ugly. You should talk to Miss Tea about that.”
    “I’ll look forward. Moments with Mike are more precious than pearls.”
    DeeDee would never be an aficionado of my special humor. She looked at me blankly, not even wondering if I was poking fun.
    Crush, though, rolled her eyes. She awarded me a sneer that said she got me and I was lame.
    Morley made noises that sounded like they belonged to the family of questions most frequently asked upon awakening in strange circumstances.
    I told him, “We’re hiding out on the second floor of a hook shop called Fire and Ice, a subsidiary of the Contague family enterprise. We’re here at Belinda’s behest. She thought this would be a safe place to hole up till you heal enough to move to her place. Your lovely attendants are DeeDee and her daughter Hellbore, who prefers to be called Crush. They have been tending you since you were brought here. What, four days ago? Ladies?”
    DeeDee counted on her fingers. “Yep. Four.” Then she actually curtsied.
    Crush rolled her eyes.
    Morley made noises. I translated. “He says pleased to meet you and thank you for all the care you’ve lavished upon him.”
    Crush said, “Didn’t sound like that to me.”
    Nor to me. “He might have expressed himself a little less elegantly. A man with deep stab wounds tends to be curt and cranky, especially when he’s just wakened and the pain is catching up. But those were the core sentiments he wanted to convey. Deep down in his heart of hearts.”
    Crush said, “Man, you are full of it.”
    “It’s one of my most endearing qualities.”
    She snorted.
    “I’m really a big old lovable stuffed bear once you get to