conversationally. 'Maybe twist the wicks out of hair.' He was close now, near
enough to see Dace's shadowy body lying at Gelada's feet.
'We do that sometimes, too. Only hair's no good. We braid 'urn
out o' rags.'
Auk halted beside the body. 'Got him back there, didn't you? His
kicks are messed some.'
'Dragged 'im far as I could. 'E's a grunter.'
Auk nodded absently. Silk had once told him, as the two had sat
at dinner in a private room in Viron, that Blood had a daughter, and
that Blood's daughter's face was like a skull, was like talking to a
skull though she was living and Bustard was dead (Bustard whose
face really was a skull now) was not like that. Her father's face,
Blood's flabby face, was not like that either, was soft and red and
sweating even when he was saying that this one or that one must
pay.
But this Gelada's too was a skull, as if he and not Blood were the
mort Mucor's father, was as beardless as any skull or nearly, the
grayish white of dirty bones even in the stinking yellow light of the
dark lantern--a talking cadaver with a little round belly, elbows
bigger than its arms, and shoulders like a towel horse, the dark
lantern in its hand and its small bow, like a child's bow, of bone
wound with rawhide, lying at its feet, with an arrow next to it, with
Dace's broad-bladed old knife next to that, and Dace's old head, the
old cap it always wore gone, his wild white hair like a crone's and
the clean white bones of his arm half-cleaned of flesh and whiter
than his old eyes, whiter than anything.
'You crank, Auk?'
'Yeah, a little.' Auk crouched beside Dace's body.
'Had the shiv on 'im.' Stooping swiftly, Gelada snatched it up.
'I'm keepin' it.'
'Sure.' The sleeve of Dace's heavy, worn blue tunic had been cut
away, and strips cut from his forearm and upper arm. Oreb hopped
from Auk's shoulder to scrutinize the work, and Auk warned him,
'Not your peck.'
'Poor bird!'
'Had a couple bits, too. You can have 'um when you get me out.'
'Keep 'em. You'll need 'em up there.'
From the corner of his eye, Auk saw Chenille trace the sign of
addition. 'High Hierax, Dark God, God of Death...'
'He show much fight?'
'Not much. Got behind 'im. Got my spare string 'round 'is neck.
There a art to that. You know Mandrill?'
'Lit out,' Auk told him without looking up. 'Palustria's what I
heard.'
'My cousin. Used to work with 'im. How 'bout Elodia?'
'She's dead. You, too.' Auk straightened up and drove his knife
into the rounded belly, the point entering below the ribs and
reaching upward for the heart.
Gelada's eyes and mouth opened wide. Briefly, he sought to
grasp Auk's wrist, to push away the blade that had already ended his
life. His dark lantern fell clattering to the naked shiprock with
Dace's old knife, and darkness rushed upon them.
'Hackum!'
Auk felt Gelada's weight come onto the knife as Gelada's legs
went limp. He jerked it free and wiped the blade and his right hand
on his thigh, glad that he did not have to look at Gelada's blood at
that moment, or meet a dead man's empty, staring eyes.
'Hackum, you said you wouldn't hurt him!'
'Did I? I don't remember.'
'He wasn't going to do anything to us.'
She had not touched him, but he sensed the nearness of her, the
female smell of her loins and the musk of her hair. 'He'd already
done it, Jugs.' He returned his knife to his boot, located Dace's
body with groping fingers, and slung it across his shoulders. It felt
no heavier than a boy's. 'You want to bring that darkee? Could be
good if we can figure away to light it.'
Chenille said nothing, but in a few seconds he heard the tinny
rattle of the lantern.
'He killed Dace. That'd be enough by itself, only he ate him
some, too. That's why he didn't talk at first. Too busy chewing. He
knew we'd want the old man's body, and he wanted to fill up.'
'He was starving. Starving down here.' Chenille's voice was
barely above a whisper.
'Sure. Bird, you still around?'
'Bird here!' Feathers brushed Auk's fingers; Oreb was riding atop
Dace's corpse.
'If you were starving, you might have done the same thing,
Hackum.'
Auk did not reply, and she added, 'Me, too, I guess.'
'It don't signify, Jugs.' He was walking faster, striding along
ahead of her.
'I don't see why not!'
'Because I had to. He'd have done it too, like I said. We're going
to the pit. I told him so.'
'I don't like that, either.' Chenille sounded as though she were
about to weep.
'I got to. I got too many friends that's been sent there, Jugs. If
some's in this pit and I can get 'em out, I got to do it. And
everybody in the pit's going to find out. Maybe Patera wouldn't tell
'em, if I asked nice. Maybe Hammerstone wouldn't. Only Urus
would for sure. He'd say this cull, he did for a pal of Auk's and ate
him, too, and Auk never done a thing. When I got 'em out, it'd be
all over the city.'
A god laughed behind them, faintly but distinctly, the meaningless,
humorless laughter of a lunatic; Auk wondered whether
Chenille had heard it. 'So I had to. And I did it. You would've too,
in my shoes.'
The tunnel was growing lighter already. Ahead, where it was
brighter still, he could see Incus, Hammerstone, and Urus still
