Faded Steel Heat

49

Max joined us. "Am I presentable?" He was in control, but barely.

"You look fine, Dad," Ty replied.

"Then let's get our guests calmed down."

I hefted the little crossbow. I had a pocket filled with bolts. Guests backed away.

Presumably the shifter could become its nasty old self with a little effort.

I dug out another coin. These things were going to break me.

The shifter expelled my bolt but its legs still refused to work. Nothing human illuminated its face now. The creature was incapable of emotion in this form.

Max stayed with me. "Just a minor problem with a would-be assassin. It's over. No need to concern yourselves. Go ahead. Enjoy."

Marengo North English materialized among us, over the changer. Sword in hand, handsome, posing, he looked brave as hell. He registered no claim that could be challenged but his stance made it seem that he must have been the target of a bizarre murder plot.

My opinion wasn't improving as I learned more about the man. I hadn't seen any proof that he believed what he preached—except that he did put cash where his mouth was. I had a problem picturing a famous skinflint gushing coin without believing.

Maybe Tama Montezuma knew the truth. She appeared more stunning than ever when she rushed up to see if Uncle Marengo was all right, despite being rattled in the extreme. There seemed to be a certain ghastly hollowness to her.

Doink! I let the changer have it between the shoulder blades. "Cut its shirt open," I told North English. "I need to get to that wound." The changer flopped, again eager to go somewhere far from guys with crossbows, knives, and silver.

The guests backed away again but continued to watch. Even the musicians and servants wanted to gawk. There wasn't an ounce of compassion in the house.

What does that say about the human folk of TunFaire?

Valiant Marengo stepped forward heroically. With an elegant flick of his blade he slit the changer's stolen dress. The creature kept trying to wriggle away. Its limbs refused to cooperate.

I yanked the bolt out and pushed my coin in before the wound closed. "This's the last one. I hope." Six was more shapeshifters in one place than I'd ever heard tell of. A few more wouldn't be a real surprise now.

Weider stared at the changer. He shook his head. "I don't get it, Garrett." He was fighting the shakes.

He had a better chance of understanding than I did. It was his house, his family, his brewery. What I understood was, he was my friend. "We'll find out."

Ty agreed. "Whatever it takes, Garrett." He was shaking, too. "No prisoners. No quarter." He refused to sit down.

"I'll need help dragging these things out of here." On cue, Relway's thugs materialized. They must have been listening. They slipped through the crowd like they were greased. "Where were you guys when I needed some backup?" I grumbled. "This needs taking away. I have two more upstairs. I'll show you where."

Weider addressed his guests again. "Please, people. Celebrate. Be joyful." He couldn't fake any joy himself. His despair shone through.

My admiration grew. Max was like those old-time aristocrats who had built the empire. He soldiered on with what had to be done despite any personal pain. He would not yet yield before his duties were satisfied.

I led Relway's men to the study.

One prisoner had slipped his bonds. We got there just in time. It cost me another groat to get it under control again. I was grumbling like Marengo before we finished.

Ritter said, "We'll take them out the back way. You'll hear from the chief."

"Remind him. He promised."

Belinda was waiting when I went back downstairs. She asked, "Are we ready to go now?"

I watched North English entertain a gaggle of hangers-on, flourishing the borrowed sword. He seemed particularly animated. I must have missed the most exciting part of the adventure.

A frown darkened his face when he saw me watching—but he was too pleased with himself to worry.

Miss Montezuma offered me a speculative, enigmatic, almost frightened glance. She looked like a woman who had found a snake in the breadbox. Though I doubted she would know what a breadbox was.

Again Belinda asked, "Can we go now?"

"I can't. Not while there are guests still here." And then there was Tinnie.

Belinda scowled. "There was a time, not that long ago, when you would've dropped everything... " It wasn't true. We both knew it.

"Go if you need to, Belinda. I'll get in touch. If you'll let me."

She nodded unhappily.

Belinda Contague was powerful and deadly—and a sad little girl. Not to mention dangerously willful.

Sometimes I'd like to choke Chodo for whatever he did to her.

"I'll go, then." She glanced at Tinnie. "Don't forget me." Damn! She wouldn't get into a killer Contague mood, would she?

Chodo got rid of Belinda's mother because he couldn't stand competition.

"Belinda... "

She stalked away. She muttered something I didn't hear as she passed Tinnie and Alyx. She paused to say something to Marengo North English. He seemed startled, pleased, frightened all at the same time. He looked at me speculatively. Belinda swept up the stairs to the outside door and Gerris Genord. She and the majordomo were gone before I got my thoughts organized. Events had Genord looking bleaker than they did Max or Gilbey.