Between downtown and Avalante lay fires and angry mobs. Even mounted, I was wary of such a journey. Doubly so with Darla’s hands clasped around my chest.
Finding Pratt seemed easiest. Of course that meant risking a meeting with Lethway, but since he might well have died at the Timbers I decided to chance it.
I managed to convey my intentions to Darla in a shout. I didn’t make any attempt to take her home.
I didn’t think I could bear to hurt her twice in one day.
We made for Lethway’s offices. I didn’t think Pratt would still be employed there, but I knew I could find out who was alive and who was being winged to wonders above.
I brought the mare to a halt right in front of Lethway’s building. The street was populated by a trio of Watch sergeants and a bevy of idling soldiers. I’d planned on sneaking in, but even Lethway wouldn’t dare murder in the street in front of the Watch.
The doors were open. A pair of stout worthies flanked them and made no secret of carrying crossbows in open defiance of city law.
I dismounted, tied the mare to the hitching post and carefully approached the door, my hands open at my sides and my face a smiling beacon of goodwill.
“Good day, gents.”
No reply. But they kept their crossbows aimed at the street. I laid a hand on the door and neither of them blinked.
I opened it and stepped inside.
The place was a beehive. Harried men in suits ran to and fro, shouting and waving papers. Messenger boys charged up and down stairs. Half a dozen lawyers in top hats and capes conferred in a corner, hungry vultures dividing up the feast.
But there, behind the desk, I spied a familiar face.
“Miss Marchin,” I said. “So good to see you again.”
Miss Marchin looked up. Her eyes were red and so was the tip of her nose.
“Oh, go away,” she said. Her lip trembled. “Just go away, or I’ll yell for Cooper and Benny.”
I stopped. “No need for that. I’m just looking for Pratt.”
“He’s dead.” She mopped at her face with a white cloth. “Just go.”
“Pratt? Dead?” I took a step backward. “I’m going. I’m sorry. I liked him.”
She cried a bit into her hanky.
“Mr. Lethway?”
“Nearly dead. Elf-struck. They say he won’t last the day. What do you care? Get out.”
She threw something at me. I assumed it was the hanky at first, but it flew too straight, too true.
She managed a wink out of those puffy red eyes.
I bent and scooped up the object she’d thrown.
I got. Benny and Cooper watched me go with no signs of interest. Darla waited until we rounded the corner to speak.
“Well?”
“I’m told Pratt is dead. I’m told Lethway is heading that way.”
I couldn’t see her frown, but I could hear it in her voice.
“But you don’t believe that.”
“My right coat pocket. A note. Read it for me, won’t you?”
She found the paper, read it, brought her lips close to my ear.
“Pratt is alive,” she said. “He wants you to come see him.”
She read me an address, and I turned the mare that way.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We were soon surrounded by Army tallboys, Army troop transports and whopping big twenty-horse Army cargo flats.
Lucky for us, my borrowed mare was Army bred and Army trained, and she snorted at the biggest and the worst of them and kept plodding dutifully along.
The address Pratt provided led to a busy coffee shop five blocks from Lethway’s lair. The usual clientele was gone, replaced by idling officers who knew a good place to lay low while there was real work to be done, but that suited me just fine. It was a poor place for murder.
I seated Darla at a table next to a trio of smiling young lieutenants and then I shouldered my way into the coffee shop.
Pratt himself was seated at a table in the back. He wasn’t alone. I didn’t know the man seated across from him, but at a word from Pratt the big-boned stranger stood and offered me his seat and then vanished into the crowd.
I sat.
Pratt looked bad. His right eye was concealed with a bandage. His lips were swollen and split. An ugly purple bruise peeked out from under the bandage wrapped around his forehead, and I realized he wasn’t wearing a hat to hide the damage because the swelling left him with nothing that fit.
When he grinned, he revealed a couple of missing teeth. But he grinned anyway, and stuck out his hand, and I took it and shook it.
“Glad to see you made it.”
“Likewise.”
“You don’t have a scratch on you, you lucky bastard.”
I shrugged. “I broke a nail, though. Nasty business.”
“I guess you heard Lethway took it worse than either of us.” Pratt shifted in his seat and grunted in pain. “Had a stroke while his doctor was patching him up. Word is he won’t live through the night.”
“What a pity. How’s the missus?”
“She’s fine. I did it, Markhat. Took her out of there. Got a house on Verdant. You should come around sometime.”
“Heard from Carris?”
Pratt shook his head. “Not a word. But I know he got out, Markhat. Saw him leave. So maybe I should be asking you where he is.”
“Wish I knew.” I told Pratt about Carris and his visit to the Fields house. Then I described trying to catch him at the docks and watching the last boat leave instead.
I didn’t tell Pratt about the wedding, or Tamar, or the Church.
Shame on me.
“So the kid made it, wounded and feverish, all the way uptown.” Pratt beamed. “He’s a damned tough kid.”
“Somebody taught him that.” I eyed the crowd. “You know, a boat out of town might not be a bad idea.”
“She can’t travel just yet.” He didn’t look up. “No, we’re staying put. You?”
“I hate boats.”
“I had some men check the bodies,” said Pratt. “Japeth Stricken wasn’t there.”
“Damn.”
“Damn is right. He’ll be apt to look you up, Markhat. Once he’s done with Lethway.”
“The thought crossed my mind. I’ll keep an eye out.”
Pratt nodded and grimaced at the effort.
“But I guess anybody that can kill wand-wavers and walk away looking fresh and rested isn’t much worried about the likes of Stricken, are they now?”
“He slipped. I got in a lucky stab. Nothing miraculous about it.”
“Slipped. Sure he did. Just like the pair you dropped in front of me. They found the wand-waver’s body, you know. Burned to a crisp. Still, you could see he had a big hole all the way through him. That’s one Hell of a stab you
