“Let’s worry about getting through the next few days,” I growled. “What we do later we can worry about later. Look. We got clothes that belonged to Darling and Raven. Can you guys find them now?”
They put their heads together. After some discussion Goblin announced, “Silent thinks he can. Trouble is, he has to do it like a dog. Lock on the trail and follow around everywhere Raven went. Right up till he died. Or didn’t. If he didn’t, right on to where he is now.”
“But that.… Hell. You’re spotting him a couple months lead.”
“People spend a lot of time not moving around, Croaker, Silent would skip over that.”
“Still sounds slow.”
“Best you can get. Unless he comes to us. Which maybe he can’t.”
“All right. All right. What about the ship?”
“Ask the Lieutenant. Let’s see if we can find your damned papers.”
There were no papers. One-Eye was able to detect nothing hidden anywhere. If I wanted to trace the papers, I’d have to start with the crew. Someone had to help Raven take them off.
We left the ship. Goblin and Pawnbroker found a good spot from which they could watch it. Silent and Otto took off on Raven’s trail. The rest of us went back and wakened the Lieutenant. He thought taking the ship was a good idea.
He’d never liked Raven much. I think he was motivated by more than practical considerations.
Meadenvil: The Refugee
The rumors and incredible stories swept through Meadenvil rapidly. Shed heard about the ship from Juniper within hours of her arrival. He was stunned. The Black Company run out? Crushed by their masters? That made no sense. What the hell was going on up there?
His mother. Sal. His friends. What had become of them? If half the stories were true, Juniper was a desolation. The battle with the black castle had consumed the city.
He wanted desperately to go find somebody, ask about his people. He fought the urge. He had to forget his homeland. Knowing that Croaker and his bunch, the whole thing could be a trick to smoke him out.
For a day he remained in hiding, in his rented room, debating, till he convinced himself that he should do nothing. If the Company was on the run, it would be leaving again. Soon, Its former masters would be looking for it.
Would the Taken come after him, too? No. They had no quarrel with him. They did not care about his crimes. Only the Custodians wanted him.… He wondered about Bullock, rotting in prison, accused of Raven’s murder. He did not understand that at all, but was too nervous to investigate. The answer was not significant in the equation of Marron Shed’s survival.
After his day in isolation he decided to resume his quest for a place of business. He was looking for a partnership in a tavern, having decided to stick with what he knew.
It had to be a better place. One that would not lead him into financial difficulties the way the Lily had. Each time he recalled the Lily, he suffered moments of homesickness and nostalgia, of bottomless loneliness. He had been a loner all his life, but never alone. This exile was filled with pain.
He was walking a narrow, shadowed street, slogging uphill through mud left by a nighttime rain, when something in the corner of his eye sent chills to the deeps of his soul. He stopped and whirled so swiftly he knocked another pedestrian down. As he helped the man rise, apologizing profusely, he glared into the shadows of an alley.
“Conscience playing tricks on me, I guess,” he murmured, after parting with his victim. But he knew better. He had seen it. Had heard his name called softly. He went to the mouth of the gap between buildings. But it had not waited for him.
A block later he laughed nervously, trying to convince himself it had been a trick of imagination after all. What the hell would the castle creatures be doing in Meadenvil? They’d been wiped out.… But the Company guys who had fled here didn’t know that for sure, did they? They had run off before the fight was over. They just hoped their bosses had won, because the other side was even worse than theirs.
He was being silly. How could the creature have gotten here? No ship’s master would sell passage to a thing like that.
“Shed, you’re worrying yourself silly about nothing.” He entered a tavern called the Ruby Glass, operated by a man named Selkirk. Shed’s landlord had recommended both.
Their discussions were fruitful. Shed agreed to return the following afternoon.
* * *
Shed was sharing a beer with his prospective partner. His proposition seemed beneficial, for Selkirk had satisfied himself as to his character and now was trying to sell him on the Ruby Glass. “Night business will pick up once the scare is over.”
“Scare?”
“Yeah. Some people have disappeared around the neighborhood. Five or six in the last week. After dark. Not the kind usually grabbed by the press gangs. So people have been staying inside. We aren’t getting the usual night traffic.”
The temperature seemed to drop forty degrees. Shed sat rigid as a board, eyes vacant, the old fear sliding through him like the passage of snakes. His fingers rose to the shape of the amulet hidden beneath his shirt.
“Hey, Marron, what’s the matter?”
“That’s how it started in Juniper,” he said, unaware that he was speaking. “Only it was just the dead. But they wanted them living. If they could get them. I have to go.”
“Shed? What the hell is wrong?”
He came out of it momentarily. “Oh. Sorry, Selkirk. Yeah. We have a deal. But there’s something I have to do first. Something I need to check on.”
“What?”
“Nothing to do with you. With us. We’re ready to go. I’ll bring my stuff up tomorrow and we can get together with the people we need to close the deal legally. I just have something else to do right now.”
He went out of the place practically running, not sure what he could do or where he could start, not even if he was sane in his assumption. But he was sure that what had happened in luniper would reoccur in Meadenvil. And a lot faster if the creatures were doing their own collecting.
He touched his amulet again, wondering how much protection it afforded. Was it puissant? Or just a promise?
He hurried to his rooming house, where people were patient with his questions, knowing he was from out of town. He asked about Raven. The murder had been the talk of the town, what with a foreign policeman having been charged on the accusation of his own men. But nobody knew anything. There was no eyewitness to Raven’s death except Asa. And Asa was in Juniper. Probably dead. The Black Company would not have wanted him turning witness against them.
He shed an impulse to contact the survivors. They might want him out of the way, too.
He was on his own with this.
The place where Raven had died seemed a likely place to start. Who knew where that was? Asa. Asa was not available. Who else? How about Bullock?
His guts knotted. Bullock represented everything he feared back home. In a cage here, but still very much a symbol. Could he face the man?
Would the man tell him anything?
Finding Bullock was no problem. The main prison did not move. Finding the courage to face him, even from beyond bars, was another matter. But this entire city lay under a shadow.
Torment racked Shed. Guilt cut him apart. He had done things that left him unable to endure himself. He had committed crimes for which there was no way of making restitution. Yet here was something.…
“You’re a fool, Marron Shed,” he told himself. “Don’t worry about it. Meadenvil can look out for itself. Just move on to another city.”
But something deeper than cowardice told him he could not run. And not just from himself. A creature from the black castle had appeared in Meadenvil. Two men who had had dealings with the castle had come here. That could not be coincidence. Suppose he moved on? What was to keep the creatures from turning up again, wherever he went?
He had made a deal with a devil. On a gut level he sensed that the net in which he had been taken had to be unwo
ven strand by strand.
He moved the everyday, cowardly Shed to a throne far behind his eyes and brought forward the Shed who had hunted with Krage and eventually killed his tormentor.
He did not recall the cock-and-bull story he used to get past the wards, but did bullshit his way in to see Bullock.
The Inquisitor had lost none of his spirit. He came to the bars spitting and cursing and promising Shed an excruciating death.
Shed countered, “You ain’t never going to punish nobody but maybe a cockroach in there. Shut up and listen. Forget who you were and remember where you are. I’m the only hope you got of getting out.” Shed was amazed. Could he have been half as firm without the intervening bars?
Bullock’s face went blank. “Go ahead. Talk.”
“I don’t know how much you hear in here. Probably nothing. I’ll run it down. After you left Juniper, the rest of the Black Company showed up. They took over. Their Lady and what-not came to town. They attacked the black castle. I don’t know how that turned out. What word there is makes it sound like the city was wiped out. During the fighting some of the Company guys grabbed a ship and got out on account of their masters were going to turn on them. Why I don’t know.”
Bullock stared at him, considering. “That’s the truth?”
“From what I’ve heard second-hand.”
“It was those Black Company bastards got me in here. Framed me. I only had a fight with Raven. Hell, he almost killed me.”
“He’s dead now.” Shed described what Asa had seen. “I have a notion what killed him and why. What I need to know is where it happened. So I can make sure. You tell me that and I’ll try to get you out.”
“I only know approximately. I know where I caught up with him and which way him and Asa went when they got away. That should pin it down pretty close. Why do you want to know?”
“I think the castle creatures planted something on Raven. Like a seed. I think that’s why he died. Like the man who brought the original seed to Juniper.”
Bullock frowned.
“Yeah. Sounds tall. But listen to this. The other day I saw one of the creatures near where I’m staying. Watching me. Wait! I know what they look like. I met them. Also, people are disappearing. Not too many yet. Not enough to cause a big stink. But enough to scare people.”
Bullock moved to the back of his cell, settled on the floor, placed his back against the wall. He was quiet for more than a minute. Shed waited nervously
“What’s your interest, innkeeper?”
“Repayment of a debt. Bullock, the Black Company kept me prisoner for a while. I learned a lot about that castle. It was nastier than anybody guessed. It was a doorway of sorts. Through which a creature called the Dominator was trying to get into the world. I contributed to the growth of that thing. I helped it reach the point where it attracted the Black Company and its sorcerer friends. If Juniper has been destroyed, it’s as much my fault as anybody’s. Now the same fate threatens Meadenvil. I can do something to stop it. If I can find it.”
Bullock sniggered. Sniggers turned into chuckles. Chuckles became laughter.
“Then rot here!” Shed shouted, and started to leave.
“Wait!”
Shed turned.
Bullock stifled his mirth. “Sorry. It’s so incongruous. You, so righteous. I mean, I really believe you mean it. All right, Marron Shed. Give it a shot. And if you manage it and you get me out of here, I might not drag you back to Juniper.”
“There’s no Juniper to drag me to, Bullock. Rumor says the Lady planned to loot the Catacombs after she finished the black castle. You know what that means. All-out rebellion.”
Bullock’s humor vanished. “Straight down the Shaker Road, past the twelfth mile marker. Left on the first farm track, under a dead oak tree. You go at least six miles on that. Way past the farms. That’s wild country. You better go armed.”
“Armed?” Shed grinned a big, self-conscious grin. “Marron Shed never had guts enough to learn to use a weapon. Thanks.”
“Don’t forget me, Shed. My trial comes up first week next month.”
“Right.”
* * *
Shed dismounted and began leading the rented mule when he reached a point he estimated to be six miles from the Shaker Road. He went on another half-mile. The track was little more than a game trail, winding through rugged country densely covered with hardwood. He saw no evidence man ever traveled this way. Odd. What had Raven and Asa been doing out here? He could think of no reason that made sense. Asa had claimed they were running from Bullock. If so, why hadn’t they kept on going down the Shaker Road?
His nerves tautened. He touched the amulet, the knife hidden up his sleeve. He had splurged and bought himself two good short weapons, one for his belt and one for his sleeve.
They did little to boost his confidence.
The trail turned downhill, toward a brook, ran beside that for several hundred yards, and debouched into a broad clearing. Shed almost walked into that. He was a city boy. Never before had he been into country more wild than the Enclosure.
Some innate sense of caution stopped him at the clearing’s edge. He dropped to one knee, parted the undergrowth, cursed softly when the mule nudged him with its nose.
He had guessed right.
A great black lump stood out there. It was the size of a house already. Shed stared at faces frozen in screams of terror and agony.
A perfect place for it, out here. Growing this fast, it would become complete before anyone discovered it. Unless by accident. And the accidental discoverer would become one with it.
Shed’s heart hammered. He wanted nothing more than to race back to Meadenvil and cry the city’s danger in the streets. He had seen enough. He knew what he had come to learn. Time to get away.
He went forward, slowly. He dropped the mule’s reins, but it followed, interested in the tall grass. Shed approached the black lump carefully, a few steps at a time. Nothing happened. He circled it.
The shape of the thing became more evident. It would be identical to the fortress overlooking Juniper, except for the way its foundations conformed to the earth. Its gate would face south. A well-beaten path led to a low hole there. Further confirmation of his suspicions.
Where had the creatures come from? Did they roam the world at will, hidden on the edge of night, seen only by those who bargained with them?
Returning to the side from which he had approached, he stumbled over something.
Bones. Human bones. A skeleton—head, arms, legs, with part of the chest missing. Still clad in tatters he’d seen Raven wear a hundred times. He knelt. “Raven. I hated you. But I loved you, too. You were the worst villain I ever knew. And as good a friend as I ever had. You made me start thinking like a man.” Tears filled his eyes.
He searched childhood memories, finally found the prayer for the passage of the dead. He began to sing in a voice that had no notion how to carry a tune.
The grass swished only once, just on the edge of audibility. A hand closed on his shoulder. A voice said, “Marron Shed.”
Shed shrieked and grabbed for his belt knife.
Meadenvil: Warm Trail
I did not have a good night after visiting Raven’s ship. It was a night of dreams. Of nightmares, if you will. Of terrors I dared not mention when I wakened, for the others had troubles and fears enough.
She came to me in my sleep, as she had not done since our grim retreats when the Rebel was closing in on Charm, so long ago. She came, a golden glow that might have been no dream at all, for it seemed to be there in the room I shared with five other men, illuminating them and the room while I lay with heart hammering, staring in disbelief. The others did not respond, and later I was not sure I had not imagined the whole thing. It had been that way with the visits in the way back when.
“Why did you abandon me, physician? Did I treat you less than well?”
Baffled, confused, I croaked out, “It was run or be killed. We would not have fled had
there been a choice. We served you faithfully, through hazards and horrors greater than any in our Company’s history. We marched to the ends of the earth for you, without complaint. And when we came to the city Juniper, and spent half our strength storming the black castle, we learned that we were to be rewarded by being destroyed.”
That marvelous face formed in the golden cloud. That marvelous face drawn in sadness. “Whisper planned that. Whisper and Feather. For reasons of their own. But Feather is gone and Whisper has been disciplined. I would not have allowed such a crime in any case. You were my chosen instruments. I would permit no machination of the Taken to harm you. Come back.”
“It’s too late. Lady. The die is cast. Too many good men have been lost. Our heart is gone. We have grown old. Our only desire is to return to the South, to rest in the warm sun and forget.”
“Come back. There is much to be done. You are my chosen instruments. I will reward you as no soldiers have ever been rewarded.”
I could detect no hint of treachery. But what did that mean? She was ancient. She had deluded her husband, who was far harder to fuddle than I.
“It’s too late, Lady.”
“Come back, physician. You, if no one else. I need your pen,”
I do not know why I said what I did next. It was not the wisest thing to do, if she was feeling the least benevolent toward us, the least disinclined to come howling after us. “We will do one more thing for you. Because we are old and tired and want to be done with war. We will not stand against you. If you do not stand against us.”
Sadness radiated from the glow. “I am sorry. Truly sorry. You were one of my favorites. A mayfly who intrigued me. No, physician. That cannot be. You cannot remain neutral. You never could. You must stand with me or against me. There is no middle ground.”
And with that the golden cloud faded, and I fell into a deep sleep—if ever I had been awake.
I woke feeling rested but worried, at first unable to recall the visit. Then it slammed back into consciousness. I dressed hurriedly, raced to the Lieutenant. “Lieutenant, we got to start moving faster. She won. She’s going to come after us.”