twitched a shoulder. What was the message? I could not guess.
Something unusual was in the wind. Those in the know found it delicious. Though I could not guess what it was, I knew it would be slick and nasty.
The storm broke. Soon the Roses road was open. Soulcatcher fretted. Raker had two weeks start. It would take us a week to reach Roses. One-Eye’s planted tales might lose their efficacy before we arrived.
We left before dawn, the limestone block aboard a wagon. The wizards had done little but carve out a modest declivity the size of a large melon. I could not fathom its value. One-Eye and Goblin fussed over it like a groom over a new bride. One-Eye answered my questions with a big grin. Bastard.
The weather held fair. Warm winds blew out of the south. We encountered long stretches of muddy road. And I witnessed an outrageous phenomenon. Soulcatcher got down in the mud and dragged that wagon with the rest of us. That great lord of the Empire.
Roses is the queen city of the Salient, a teeming sprawl, a free city, a republic. The Lady has not seen fit to revoke its traditional autonomy. The world needs places where men of all stripes and stations can step outside the usual strictures.
So. Roses. Owning no master. Filled with agents and spies and those who live on the dark side of the law. In that environment, One-Eye claimed, his scheme had to prosper.
Roses’ red walls loomed over us, dark as old blood in the light of the setting sun, when we arrived.
Goblin ambled into the room we had taken. “I found the place,” he squeaked at One-Eye.
“Good.”
Curious. They had not exchanged a cross word in weeks. Usually an hour without a squabble was a miracle.
Soulcatcher shifted in the shadowed corner where he remained planted like a lean black bush, a crowd softly debating with itself. “Go on.”
“It’s an old public square. A dozen alleys and streets going in and out. Poorly lighted at night. No reason for any traffic after dark.”
“Sounds perfect,” One-Eye said.
“It is. I rented a room overlooking it.”
“Let’s take a look,” Elmo said. We all suffered from cabin fever. An exodus started. Only Soulcatcher stayed put. Perhaps he understood our need to get away.
Goblin was right about the square, apparently. “So what?” I asked. One-Eye grinned. I snapped, “Clam-lips! Play games.”
“Tonight?” Goblin asked.
One-Eye nodded. “If the old spook says go.”
“I’m getting frustrated,” I announced. “What’s going on? AH you clowns do is play cards and watch Raven sharpen his knives.” That went on for hours at a time, the movement of whetstone across steel sending chills down my spine. It was an omen. Raven does not do that unless he expects the situation to get nasty.
One-Eye made a sound like a cawing crow.
We rolled the wagon at midnight. The stablekeeper called us madmen. One-Eye gave him one of his famous grins. He drove. The rest of us walked, surrounding the wagon.
There had been changes. Something had been added. Someone had incised the stone with a message. One Eye, probably, during one of his unexplained forays out of headquarters.
Bulky leather sacks and a stout plank table had joined the stone. The table looked capable of bearing the block. Its legs were of a dark, polished wood. Inlaid in them were symbols in silver and ivory, very complex, hieroglyphical, mystical.
“Where did you get the table?” I asked. Goblin squeaked, laughed. I growled, “Why the hell can’t you tell me now?”
“Okay,” One-Eye said, chuckling nastily. “We made it.”
“What for?”
“To sit our rock on.”
“You’re not telling me anything.”
“Patience, Croaker. AH in due time.” Bastard.
There was a strangeness about our square. It was foggy. There had been no fog anywhere else.
One-Eye stopped the wagon in the square’s center. “Out with that table, boys.”
“Out with you,” Goblin squawked. “Think you can malinger your way through this?” He wheeled on Elmo. “Damned old cripple’s always got an excuse.”
“He’s got a point, One-Eye.” One-Eye protested. Elmo snapped, “Get your butt down off there.”
One-Eye glared at Goblin. “Going to get you someday, Chubbo. Curse of impotence. How does that sound?”
Goblin was not impressed. “I’d put a curse of stupidity on you if I could improve on Nature.”
“Get the damned table down,” Elmo snapped.
“You nervous?” I asked. He never gets riled at their fussing. Treats it as part of the entertainment.
“Yeah. You and Raven get up there and push.”
That table was heavier than it looked. It took all of us to get it off the wagon. One-Eye’s faked grunts and curses did not help. I asked him how he got it on.
“Built it there, dummy,” he said, then fussed at us, wanting it moved a half inch this way, then a half inch that.
“Let it be,” Soulcatcher said. “We don’t have time for this.” His displeasure had a salutory effect. Neither Goblin nor One-Eye said another word.
We slid the stone onto the table. I stepped back, wiped sweat from my face, I was soaked. In the middle of winter. That rock radiated heat.
“The bags,” Soulcatcher said. That voice sounded like a woman I would not mind meeting.
I grabbed one, grunted. It was heavy. “Hey. This is money.”
One-Eye snickered. I heaved the sack into the pile under the table. A damned fortune there. I had never seen so much in one place, in fact.
“Cut the bags,” Soulcatcher ordered. “Hurry it up!”
Raven slashed the sacks. Treasure dribbled onto the cobblestones. We stared, lusting in our hearts.
Soulcatcher caught One-Eye’s shoulder, took Goblin’s arm. Both wizards seemed to shrink. They faced table and stone. Soulcatcher said, “Move the wagon.”
I still had not read the immortal message they had carved on the rock. I darted in for a look.
Ah. Aha. Plain-spoken. Straightforward. Simple. Just our style. Ha.
I stepped back, tried to guess the magnitude of Soul-catcher’s investment. I spied gold amidst the hill of silver. One bag leaked uncut gems.
“The hair,” Soulcatcher demanded. One-Eye produced the strands. Soulcatcher thumbed them into the walls of the head-sized cavity. He stepped back, joined hands with One-Eye and Goblin.
They made magic.
Treasure, table, and stone began to shed a golden glow.
Our archfoe was a dead man. Half the world would try to collect this bounty. It was too big to resist. His own people would turn on him.
I saw one slim chance for him. He could steal the treasure himself. Tough job, though. No Rebel Prophet could out-magic one of the Taken.
They completed their spell-casting. “Somebody test it,” One-Eye said-There was a vicious crackle when Raven’s daggertip pricked the plane of the tablelegs. He cursed, scowled at his weapon. Elmo thrust with his sword. Crackle! The tip of his blade glowed white.
“Excellent,” Soulcatcher said. “Take the wagon away.”
Elmo detailed a man. The rest of us fled to the room Goblin had rented.
At first we crowded the window, willing something to happen. That palled fast. Roses did not discover the doom we had set for Raker till sunrise.
