Faded Steel Heat

93

The somebody who wakened me wasn't one of Block's regularly sanctioned gangsters. The somebody was Pular Singe. I almost whooped as I popped up, startled. "How the hell did you get in here?"

I scared her. I had to calm her down before I could get any sense out of her. She lisped much worse when she was frightened and her hearing went north. In time I learned that she'd just walked into the Al-Khar, following my scent. There'd been nobody on guard. She hadn't thought anything of that.

"Did you see any bodies?"

"No."

"Damn! I hope that means they were ready for an invasion and just ran away." Because that was what a lack of guards meant. Somebody unfriendly had gotten inside but hadn't found anybody to kill. Not right away. I suffered no overwhelming impulse to find out if Block and Relway were all right, though, "Why are you here?" I had myself together now. I started easing her toward the nearest street door. Seemed a stroke of strategic genius to get ourselves far away from whatever big trouble was afoot.

"Reliance sent trackers after everyone following you, Garrett. He believed they would run to their masters as soon as they knew you had shaken the one with no scent. I teamed with two others to follow that thing. It can be done. I learned."

We were at the door. I thought I heard Block's fake evil laughter from deep inside the jail. "How'd you manage that?"

"By sight. This creature is not smart. It does not look back. It does not see those who are not people. That is why others were able to follow it. Even Fenibro is smart enough to look back sometimes. We took turns being closest. It is easy to track one another."

"Hmm." The ratpeople were working real hard to put me in their debt. I had a bad feeling about that. People who do that sort of thing always want something back. Usually something that involves me having to work.

There was enough light out to see. A modest fog had come in off the river. I understand that happens frequently but I'm seldom up early enough to see it.

For some early is late. Singe was uncomfortable being out after daybreak but she stuck with me, valiantly trying to communicate everything Reliance's people had found out about my personal road show. I must say, I appreciated the unflagging interest of all the friends I'd made recently. Even though they were watching one another as much as making sure that they knew every little thing I found interesting.

Only Max Weider wasn't watching me. But Relway was doing Max's share as well as his own. He had a whole crew on my backtrail.

Where did he find them all?

That fact that he could round up that many people fanatically devoted to law and order was as scary as the fact that our Marengo North Englishes and Bondurant Altoonas could find all the friends they wanted.

Human folks were flooding the streets now, starting their day. Many were the sort who worshipped Marengo. They did not like what they saw when Singe and I strolled by.

It constituted a little lesson on what it means to be a ratman.

Singe's courage was not up to a prolonged test.

Mine wasn't much less feeble.

Singe told me, "I cannot remain with you."

"I understand. Before you go, though, tell me, did your people track the scentless one to others like it?"

"It went to a place where others of its kind waited."

"Ah! And where might that have been? How many of them were there?"

"Three and the one we followed. We did not understand the language they spoke. Nor could I get very close. They were alert. They were very troubled."

"You did get close enough to listen?"

Singe made a dramatic effort to respond with a nod. "We are often closer than you think."

I hugged her with one arm. She barely came up to my brisket. Somehow, she seemed bigger when we were just walking, talking. "You are the bravest child I've ever met."

Did you know rats purr? I'd heard cats and raccoons do it, but never... Singe did.

I tried to be stern. "You can't take risks like that. These creatures are extremely dangerous. They think nothing of murder. I'd hate myself if you got hurt."

Singe's purr grew louder. I could hear Morley and Belinda mocking me now. I cautioned myself not to let Singe make too much of my praise.

"Where're they hiding?"

She had trouble explaining. Ratpeople don't think in terms of street names and addresses. Not that we have the latter anywhere but on the Hill. Mostly you locate yourself as being so many doors some direction from an outstanding landmark. Like, say, a tavern. Most of those draw their names from signs easily recognized by the illiterate. The Merry Mole. The Gold Seam, for dwarves. The Palms for people overburdened with wealth and self-opinion.

She made me understand. "A lamp, is that it?" She got that across with finger speech when I proved too dense to get it verbally. "Down by the river? There aren't any taverns... The Lamp brewery? That's been closed up and abandoned for twenty... "

What a wonderful place to squat. The Lamp brewery was no sprawling monster like the Weider place but in its day it was a leading producer of working-class lager. It went before my time but the old men remember it fondly. I suspect time improves the beer, as it will do. Had the Lamp product been superior, the brewery would still be in business.

"That's interesting, Singe. Very interesting." I'd have to let Relway know. We could give the place a look when I got back from The Pipes.

The shifters had themselves a brewery. But not a functional brewery. Nor one that could be made functional, probably. Anything of any use whatsoever would've been sold or stolen long ago.

I told Singe, "I owe you." She purred some more. "But I really don't want to be indebted to Reliance. I feel like he's up to no good."

The child wasn't completely smitten. Nor wholely thick-witted. I didn't lead her into any verbal ambush. She didn't volunteer anything.

I chuckled. "You're the best. Look, I have to go out to the country. You go home and rest. You should stop taking risks for that old schemer."

She stopped walking. For a moment she found the courage to look me directly in the eye, which ratpeople are almost constitutionally incapable of doing. Then she extended a paw. I extended my own. She gave me a light, nervous handshake. "Thank you for not being cruel."

"Cruel? What?... " Pular Singe vanished into an alley more quietly than one of the creatures from which her race had been wrought.