“Yes.”
“Let’s get it over with. Quietly.”
Smeds dashed across the street. Quietly. Fish was supposed to give him time to get around back. Then Fish, whom the wizard had not met, would knock on the front door. Smeds was supposed to get in-quietly-and come at the wizard from behind.
The tactic made no sense to Smeds but he was not the general here.
He stopped, astonished. A side window stood open to let in the cool night air. He paused to catch his breath, then peeked.
The room was the one where the wizard had seen Timmy the first time they had come. The wizard was in there, puttering around, putting things away and mumbling to himself.
This was better than any back door.
Fish’s knock, when it came, was so discreet Smeds almost missed it. The wizard cocked his head, looked like he was trying to make up his mind whether or not to answer. Finally, muttering, he left the room.
Smeds hoisted himself through the window, went after the man. He did not recall the floor being creaky. He hoped his memory was playing no tricks because he was taking no precautions against floor noise. He drew his knife as he moved.
The nerves went away. It seemed almost as though he was a bystander in his own mind. He noted that he was moving much more fluidly than was usual, ready for anything in the midst of any movement.
The wizard growled, “Keep your pants on,” and started fumbling with the latch as Fish knocked for the third time.
Smeds peeked carefully.
The wizard was at the door, ten feet away, back to him, just opening up.
Fish asked, “Professor Dr. Damitz?”
“Yes. What can I do?”
And that was it.
Smeds saw the wizard rise onto his toes and start to raise his hands as he moved out to get the man from behind. Then Fish was pushing into the house, supporting the wizard, kicking the door shut behind him. He saw Smeds, was surprised. He started lowering the wizard to the floor. “How did you get in so fast?”
Smeds looked at the dead man. “Open side window. How come you did it that way?” The handle of a long knife stuck out under the wizard’s chin. There was not much blood.
“Blade went straight into the brain. No chance for him to do any witch stuff while he was dying.”
Smeds stared at the body. Now he understood the plan. Fish had sent him around back just to get him out of the way.
“You all right? How do you feel? A little shaky?”
“I’m all right. I don’t feel much of anything at all.”
“Did he keep written accounts or records? Something where he might have put down something about Timmy?”
“I don’t know. I never saw him do it while we were here.”
“We’d better look. You start... You feeling something now?”
“Just feeling sorry for that woman after they find him.”
“Yeah. Be rough for her for a while. Look around. Try not to mess things up too much. And don’t take too long. We got to get out of here.” Fish went into the room where the wizard had done his interviews.
Smeds rejoined him five minutes later, carrying a large glass jar and a couple of books.
“What the hell is that?”
“Timmy’s hand. I found it in a room in the back. All kinds of weird stuff back there.”
“Shit. I’m glad we took time to look.” He’d picked out a few books himself. “Let’s get the hell out of here and get rid of this stuff. Out the window. We pull it shut, it’ll latch itself behind us. I’ll go first, see if it’s clear.”
Smeds’s hands shook as he poured the first mug of beer. But it had not been as hairy as he had thought it would be. Still, there was some reaction. More than Old Man Fish was showing.
The hand and books had been cared for. The most dangerous strand had been clipped. Only one thing left to do.
Their benefactor the Nightstalker corporal came in with his beer bucket, beamed around, went for a refill.
“Shit!” Smeds said. “I clean forgot. I had a date tonight.”
Fish gave him a few seconds of a commiserating look, then said, “Drink up. Catch a nap. We’ve got half the job still to do.”
XXXVI
It seemed like I never saw Darling do much to deserve her White Rose reputation. Maybe that was because she was so unglamorous when you saw her, just a scruffy, tangle-haired blond broad in her twenties who would have fit right in with the gang back at the potato ranch. Except that she would have looked a lot more worn out now because she would have been dropping kids for ten years.
Besides her being deaf and dumb, which is always hard for the rest of us to keep separate from stupid, I think it’s hard to take her serious because she does what she does so easily, so casually. Take that attack on the monastery. Slicker than greased owl shit. And no one would have gotten hurt at all if that monster Toadkiller Dog hadn’t come plopping into the middle of those centaurs when he was making a run for it. And that was their damned fault. They got too eager. If they was hanging back like they was supposed to they would have had time to get out of the way.
She sure had the respect of the tree god and all the pull with him she wanted. I think he’d indulge her in anything.
She don’t put on no airs, neither.
It was strange for a while. You had Darling in one spot with Silent always close, trying to stay between her and Bomanz and her and Raven at the same time, only Raven and the wizard would not get anywhere near each other because they did not trust each other any more than Silent trusted either of them.
It was all kind of amusing. Because when you are on the back of a monster a couple of miles up in the air, sharing that back with a couple hundred critters that would have you for breakfast if you don’t behave, you sure as shit ain’t going to get away with nothing, no matter what you’d like to try.
The Torque boys knew that. I knew it. Darling knew it. But those other three geniuses, Bomanz, Raven, and Silent, was so busy being important plugging up the knothole at the center of the universe that that never occurred to them.
The Torques were a little nervous about me, though. I used to be Guards and they was Black Company. They thought I might be lugging a grudge.
But I was saying the White Rose don’t put on no airs. Not even being the White Rose. She don’t like being called anything but Darling. She did not mind when I came around trying to talk to her. Only Raven and Silent minded. I told Raven to stuff it when he objected and I guess she gave Silent the same message. He didn’t do nothing but stand around looking like he was making up his mind where to start carving when I talked to her.
Mind you, these were grown men. Plenty older than me.
It was Raven’s fault I could talk to her at all. He had only himself to blame. It was him insisted I learn the sign language so we could communicate in situations where we couldn’t talk out loud.
Not that we talked much at first, Darling and me. Just hi-how-you-doing stuff. I wasn’t very good at it. She taught me more sign as we went along.
She didn’t come right out and say it, but I got the feeling she was starved for somebody to talk to besides Silent. She couldn’t say it with him hovering over her like he did all the time.
When I started out the only thing I was really wanting to find out was what she really thought about Raven. I wanted to keep him from making any more of a fool of himself than he already had. Maybe she figured that. She was sharp. She never gave me a chance to work it in.
