Four and Twenty Blackbirds

hands, the very tamborine he'd just heard.

So just what is it about the tamborine that makes itsoattractive to spirits?Tal had never been to one of these little 'Consultations' without 'the spirits' floating a tamborine around the room and beating an occasional solo on it.

You'd think that, since they're in the afterlife, they'd have enough talent to play more than just a tamborine! If they're Blessed Spirits, shouldn't they have at least the talent of a minstrel? If they've been dead a while, wouldn't they have the time to practice, oh, a gittern at least, or a floor-harp, if not a pipe-organ of the sort from a Cathedral?

Furthermore, as a constable, Tal had trained himself to remember faces. He was not particularly surprised to see that the young woman levitating above the floor was the same one who'd met him at the door. Now she had unusual lighting and some fresh powder makeup and quickly-painted brows, but it was the same woman.

The young woman proceeded to give him advice about his various plans and investments—the ones mentioned in the papers in his pouch, that is. When he asked for further advice—should he undertake new projects?—she was curiously silent. And when she spoke, her lips didn't move.

This was the first time Tal had gone to a fortune-teller who was also a real mage, but he had a good idea which effect was produced by fakery, and which by applied magic.The girl's face and veil glowing— that's foxfire, I've seen that before. The levitation is either magic or a platform lowered down from the room above us. Probably the platform, it's easier. He's reading the documents I have with me by magic; he probably sees them in that crystal ball of his. Then he's the one speaking in a female voice, not the girl; that's ordinary voice-throwing, pitched high. Once in a while his lips twitch.

Just as he came to those conclusions, the Master 'collapsed,' the 'spirit' vanished, and Tal, professing concern, went to the Master's side. This, of course, gave the girl time to shed her veils, foxfire and makeup; he kept careful track, and she appeared in about the time it should take for her to get rid of the costume, wipe off powder and greasepaint, and come down from the second floor. She assisted the Master out, and returned a moment later.

'The Master must rest; it has been a difficult morning,' she said stiffly, as if making a rehearsed speech. 'The usual fee is five ducal florins for each consultation.'

Five florins! That was steep, even by the standards of the best! Then again, Oskar Koob's show was a bit more impressive, so perhaps he was worth it. Tal paid without protesting, and left, after he made an appointment for a second consultation—one which, of course, he would not attend.

Of course by that time, Oskar Koob would no longer be in residence here; he would be taking up space in either the Ducal Gaol or the Church Gaol, depending on which authority got to him first.

Unless, of course,Tal thought with some amusement, as he made his way back towards the bridge,the spirits warn him first!

Chapter Eleven

Despite diligent searching and enough bribes to equal his old wages as a constable, Tal was able to contact only a single one of the rest of the men on his list. He got to find one, and that was the extent of his luck. One had actually set up his own Chapel in one of the poor neighborhoods and was acting as a Priest in spite of the fact that he had been specifically forbidden to do any such thing. But by incredible but genuine coincidence, before Tal located him, the people of the neighborhood discovered what he was doing with their daughters during his 'special religious instruction' sessions, and he'd fled from an angry mob that chased him outside the city limits. A quick interview with the fellow from horseback, as he relentlessly stomped away from the city, convinced Tal that this one was in no way able to muster so much as the concentration or resourcefulness toplan a killing, much less follow through on one. Tal felt no sympathy at all in seeing that sad excuse for a man shamble off in his tattered Priest-clothes with just one small pouch of money—and a by-now-shriveled manhood—to his name.

The other suspects had simply vanished shortly after they'd been dismissed from the Church, and no one knew, or would admit to knowing, where they were.

Time was running out; it would not be long before the killer struck again, and Tal was getting desperate. He had yet to find even a tentative candidate for his killer.

So when his last lead ran out and he found that his path back to the bridge led him towards the Ducal Palace, he acted on an impulse.

I need something more than the resources I have,he told himself, gazing around at the darkening city streets and up into the overcast sky. The sun had set a little while ago and dusk was descending swiftly; surely that bird-man Visyr couldn't fly at night. If there was any way to persuade the creature to help in watching for suspicious persons, he'd be worth more than twenty constables. If, as they thought, the magician was directing his 'tools' from some vantage point above the city streets, Visyr might be the only person able to spot him.

He had had an almost instant sense of trust for the Haspur. Perhaps it was due to some early-childhood fascination with the raptors that the Haspur resembled, or a mental echo of the hawks and eagles of command banners and insignia which called forth thoughts of loyalty and respect, or perhaps it was the personal manner of