then dispersed in the breeze.
A shadow grew on the ground as Lord Tower dropped from the sky, cradling Reeker in his arms. He landed with a clang, spinning around swiftly to survey the scene. No-Face still writhed on the ground. Father Ver was on his knees with a bloody nose and a placid look in his eyes.
“What attacked you?” Lord Tower asked.
“Nothing,” said Father Ver.
I could see Lord Tower’s eyes narrow through the slits in his faceplate. “This is a lot of damage for nothing.”
Father Ver nodded. “This nothing mistakenly believed it was something. We won’t be bothered further by it. We’ve lost both Blade and the Whisper, by the way.”
“What? How did… how…” He paused, sniffing the air. “By the sacred quill, what is this wretched odor?”
“The scent of victory,” said Father Ver. “Without the half-seed’s miasma clinging to her, I wouldn’t have seen the Whisper about to strike.”
“Wait,” said Tower. “The Whisper did this?”
Father Ver nodded. “It is good that we culled her out this early. Blade endangered us all with his reckless dabbling in dream magic. Our chances are improved without him.” There was no hint of remorse that he’d caused Blade’s death with his ill-thought command.
No-Face sat up, cradling his injured hand. “Yurga bunnah juh!”
“He’s right,” buzzed a hummingbird that hovered into the clearing. The bird flitted closer to Lord Tower, and suddenly Menagerie stood before the knight. The contrast between the two couldn’t have been more striking; the tattooed man in nothing but a loincloth facing the knight encased scalp to sole in spotless armor. “You came here with a team of six and you’re three down before we’ve even gotten close to the dragon. We’re professionals; we don’t like to work for amateurs.”
“That’s enough of your insolence,” growled Father Ver.
Menagerie opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
Lord Tower said, “Your concerns are noted, but matter little. I’ve taken a sacred vow to complete this mission. You are free to retreat if you wish, but I must carry on until the dragon is dead, or I am.”
Menagerie took a deep breath then said, in a respectful tone, “You have something better than a vow from us. You have a contract. We’ll continue on as long as you do.”
Tower looked up the slope. “I spotted a stream a short distance from here. We’ll make camp there while we continue to gather our gear and tend our wounded. If Blade is dead, we have a burial to perform. Tomorrow we’ll press on.”
“We’re right on the edge of forest-pygmy territory,” I said to Relic. “They’ll be out for blood after what the Whisper did to them. We should retreat back to the cave.”
We have nothing to fear, thought Relic. Even with these setbacks, we still have the power to kill any pygmy that dares to threaten us.
“You’re right. We’ll slaughter them when the come to drive us out, which they will. I’ve seen enough dead pygmies lately. Let’s retreat.”
I had no idea you were so tender-hearted, Blood-Ghost. Very well. Relic turned to Lord Tower he said, “I believe we are on the edge of forest-pygmy territory. It would be wise to go back to the cave. We can be assured of our safety there.”
Lord Tower shook his head. “We’ve paid dearly to cover even this small amount of ground. I won’t give up the progress we’ve made.”
Relic nodded. “As you wish.”
“Where is your War Doll?” Tower asked. “Have we lost her — I mean it — as well?”
I didn’t wait for Relic to answer. It struck me that Infidel should have been back by now. I tuned myself to the knife and mentally leaned in its direction, flying to it at the speed of thought.
I found myself once more upon the vine draped platform where I’d left her. She was surrounded by forest- pygmies, easily a hundred of them. To my relief, they weren’t fighting her. Instead, they were gathering up the dead. A dozen of them stood around Infidel, holding her at bay with pointy sticks. I knew that Infidel could have easily fought her way out of the situation, but instead she just stood there with her hands in the air.
“Look,” she explained, in a calm voice. “I didn’t do this. I’ve got no grudge against you. Just put down the sticks. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”
“Ugamadebasda!” the lead pygmy shouted. “Ugamadebasda!” Every forest-pygmy tribe had its own dialect; I could understand most east-slope pygmies, but these west-slope pygmies slurred all the syllables of a sentence together into a single word, which made it tricky to follow. Still, from the general tone I gathered he was saying, “Shut up and keep your hands up.”
“I don’t speak the lingo, guys,” said Infidel. “I do know a little river-pygmy. Nanda chaka? Gratan doy bro?” Her accent was atrocious. She probably meant to ask if anyone knew river-pygmy, but instead she was asking if anyone had a canoe in their mouth. It didn’t matter; the forest-pygmies didn’t seem to understand her anyway.
She sighed. “I’m not getting of here without hurting a lot of you, am I?”
“I think there’s been enough hurting here today,” said a man’s voice from high in the trees above. The speaker used the crisp, finely enunciated syllables of a Silver Isle accent; it could have been Lord Tower speaking, except the voice wasn’t as deep or forceful. “Are you responsible for this slaughter?”
“Not me,” said Infidel. “There was this invisible woman who went crazy and, uh… hell, that’s just not believable at all is it?”
“Not terribly,” said the voice above.
Infidel shrugged. “If I was any good at lying, I’d make up something. But, there really was an invisible woman. She cracked a few swords over my head as well. I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
The branches above rustled. Suddenly, a patch of green, the color of moss, lowered down toward the platform on a slowly descending loop of vine. It was no pygmy. It was an elderly man of normal stature, wearing only the same gourd codpiece as the pygmies, his skin dyed green. He was all bones and skin, his flesh covering his thin limbs like aged leather. His hair was a few long green strands braided down the back of his scalp. His eyes were a sharp and penetrating blue.
“Who are you?” he asked, as his vine brought him to the platform.
“Who are you?” Infidel answered.
The old man scowled, then cocked his head, as if he was searching for some bit of information just beyond his grasp. “It’s been a while since anyone asked that question. The Jawa Fruit tribe calls me Tenoba. It means old long gourd. Among your people, my name… my name was…”
He paused, trying to remember how to say the words. It didn’t matter. I knew what he was about to say before he said it.
A light flickered in his ancient eyes. “My name,” he said, “was Judicious Merchant.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was too stunned by my grandfather being alive to closely follow the swirl of activity that unfolded. A wounded pygmy at the edge of the platform verified that they had, indeed, been attacked by something invisible, and confirmed that Infidel hadn’t hurt anyone. Forest-pygmy scouts were rushing up, telling about the fight further down slope, and how a group of long-men had killed the invisible assassin. I would have focused more on what they were saying, but I was too busy doing math in my head. My father had me when he was twenty-three. Judicious had been twenty-five when he sired Studious. So… that meant the man standing before me was ninety- eight.
For a man two years shy of a century, he looked pretty good. He still had all his teeth, for starters, even if they were the same jade hue as the rest of him. When he moved, he was as fluid as a jungle cat, without a hint of
