Lou’s clothes and we headed back to Neceda. She was still in no condition to ride on her own, so I tied her horse behind mine and she rode huddled in front of me, as Laura Lesperitt had done. The ride through the darkening forest was blessedly smooth and uneventful, and she quickly fell asleep.
That peacefulness vanished as we emerged onto the plain. In the distance, something big was once again burning in Neceda, spewing flames tall enough to be reflected in the Gusay. I couldn’t make out what it might be from this distance.
It was full dark as we entered town, and the streets were empty since everyone had once again congregated to watch something burn up. The crowd gathered at the corner of Ditch Street. Being on horseback let us see over the other onlookers.
Someone let out a cheer as a cloud of sparks billowed forth, and the noise woke Liz. She squinted against the light and asked sleepily, “What’s burning now?”
“The Lizard’s Kiss,” I said.
Like the stable before, it was already a lost cause. Since all the doors and windows had been reinforced and sealed, the fire had gone straight up through the relatively flimsy roof, and the walls acted as a chimney that sent flames shooting into the night sky. The fire also worked its way around the jambs and sills, gnawing into the night air. The front door was open, and a dozen red-scarved men and crimson-cloaked women stood in the street staring up at the flames. The rich boys looked most confused, while the few hill people Candora hadn’t recruited seemed resigned to their bad luck. Neceda’s normal population gave them plenty of room.
On his knees at the bottom of the stairs was old Tempcott, pounding the dirt and wailing, “Why, Lumina? Why? ” Prince Frederick, unrecognized and aimless without guidance, stood beside him like a lost puppy.
“Lumina…,” Liz repeated softly. “Do you think…?”
The lone dragon hatchling had left the cave the previous night, but it could not have set a fire that only flared to life now… could it? “No. Just a coincidence.”
A man marched through the crowd, dragging one of the red-cloaked girls after him. People laughed mockingly as they passed. As they got nearer I recognized flatboat captain Sharky Shavers, and beneath the cloak was his daughter, Minnow.
“… not hanging around with them goddamned freaks!” Sharky said in mid-bellow as he passed without noticing us. His eyes were downcast in shame and aggravation.
Minnow tried to simultaneously pull her wrist free and keep the cloak closed to protect her modesty. “I am not a child, Daddy! I need something to believe in!”
“You’ll believe in my foot up your ass if you ever do anything like…” His voice faded into the crowd.
After a moment Liz said with certainty, “We’re never having children.”
“Agreed,” I said, and kissed the top of her head.
There was another commotion up the street. Callie stood over someone crouched on the ground, hands covering his head. She beat at him anyway with what looked like a broom handle. “You lying sack of donkey shit!” she yelled. “This was your ‘big-time gig’? You dishonest lump of cat turd!”
Tony the minstrel risked a look up at her. “Baby, please, I can explain-”
“Explain how come you’re a ball of chicken piss?” she screamed, and smacked him again. His partner watched nearby, but was smart enough not to come between Callie and the object of her ire.
“And,” Liz added, “we’re never breaking up, because I don’t have the energy to go through all that drama.”
“Agreed,” I repeated.
There was little else to see, and nothing to do, so I took Liz on to the moon goddess hospital. She’d befriended most of the staff during my convalescence, and they descended on her like a benevolent swarm of tittering hens. They quickly took her from me, cleaned and dressed her wounds, then placed her in a quiet room for rest. Mother Mallory took me firmly aside and told me to go home and clean up so Liz wouldn’t wake and see me looking so awful.
“And please,” she added, “take a bath. Whatever you’ve been rolling in almost makes my eyes water.”
I still carried the scent from the cave, so I had to agree with her. Another set of clothes for the fire; at least they wouldn’t burn with me in them, the way Candora’s had.
I went home and cleaned up, then stopped at Angelina’s. It was late, but the crowd was still healthy thanks to the fire. Callie stood in the corner, watching Tony the minstrel mop up some spilled ale. She had her hands on her hips and, although she no longer carried the broomstick, I got the distinct impression she wouldn’t hesitate to smack him around bare-handed if he got out of line. Some wags at a nearby table snickered and made snide comments.
I took an open stool. When Angelina came by, I said, “I see Callie’s got the upper hand in the relationship now.”
“At least until pretty boy earns back the money he stole from her. Not too smart to run out on your girl and only go a couple of streets over.”
“ ‘Smart’ doesn’t seem to apply much to minstrels,” I agreed. “I didn’t see you at the fire.”
She waved her hand. “I’ve seen plenty of things burn down in my life. Besides, I wanted to make sure none of those weird red-rag people came running in here. They need to just go back to the hills where they came from.”
“That’s harsh.”
“ I’m harsh, in case you hadn’t noticed. Are you hungry?”
“Are you harsh?”
“Hang on, then; I’ll whip something up.” She went into the kitchen, and I watched Callie continue to monitor her ex-boyfriend’s progress. He was soot streaked from the fire, as well as red eyed and pale from lack of giggleweed, but maybe sobering up was what he needed. He stopped mopping and looked to her for approval. She pointed to something he’d missed, and he wearily resumed his work. A bearded tanner poured some ale on the floor right in front of Tony’s mop, but he said nothing. The tanner and his friends laughed.
Callie flounced over to me, almost shivering with delight at the new balance of power. “And how are you tonight, Mr. LaCrosse?” she said as she kissed me on the cheek.
“Not as good as you, apparently.”
“Well, Tony and I have reached an understanding. He’s working off the debt he owes me; then we’re going to send for Joan Diter and he’ll go to work for her.”
“Why?”
Callie leaned close and whispered, “Because he burned down the Lizard’s Kiss. Passed out and knocked over his giggleweed pipe.”
“No,” I said with mock surprise.
She nodded vigorously. “Oh, yeah. He’s lucky nobody died. And now he’s going to pay for it. For me, and for every other girl he’s ever screwed, then screwed over.”
Callie returned to supervising Tony, and Angelina brought me a plate of food. “So how’s Liz?”
I gave her the short version, without mentioning the dragons. It still made her eyebrows crawl toward her hairline. “Holy shit, is she okay?” she asked when I was done.
“She will be. She’s resting, which is really what she needs. She’ll have some scars, but we all have those. And she’ll be sore for a while. But she really came through in the end. Don’t find many people, men or women, who can keep their cool like that.”
“No, you don’t,” Angelina agreed. “So what about that other thing that was bothering you before?”
I shrugged as I wolfed down some gravy-soaked bread. “Seems kind of insubstantial now. I mean, we’ll talk about it, but it matters a lot less than I thought it did.”
She mussed my hair the way she’d done to Hank Pinster’s oldest boy. “You big softie. I bet you bleed pudding, don’t you?”
I finished my dinner, then went upstairs to check my office. Nothing looked different from the last time I’d been there two days ago, when I found old man Lesperitt waiting; certainly no new clients were hiding under my desk. I’d have to see about that fairly soon. Dragon slaying sure didn’t pay very well.
I grabbed some of Liz’s belongings from our place and returned to the hospital. They still wanted to keep her quiet and isolated, but they let me stretch out in an empty room and gave me something to make me sleep. Which I did, straight through to morning, deep and blessedly dreamless.
