Gilded Latten Bones

33

I was groggy from lack of sleep when I toddled down for breakfast. I missed a step, lost my balance, and might have busted something if my flailing right hand had not snagged the rail on the left side of the stair. I ended up on my belly, shaking, aching in one bruised knee and embarrassed when Singe appeared at the foot of the stair.

"You all right? What happened?"

"Gravity ambush. I think I'm good. Though I might end up wearing a peg leg." I was starting to hurt where I banged my left hip on the edge of a step. "Let's see if I can make it the rest of the way without killing myself." I turned loose of the rail.

"If you are going to kill yourself, don't do it here. I'm too weak, and Dean is too feeble to shift a corpse."

I sensed amusement from old butterbutt.

Dean had come out to investigate. "We could cut him up into smaller pieces."

"That would make a mess. But we could infiltrate him into the resurrection scheme that's got everybody excited."

"Everybody?" I made it down without further mishap.

Dean said, "Tea's ready. Sausages and rolls are warming." He slipped back into the kitchen.

Singe said, "Good thing you weren't carrying your pot when you did that."

"Yeah. Good thing. But why would I be. ."

"Because Dean is having trouble getting up and down. He needs to keep both hands on the rails."

"Got it. Now tell me about everybody being excited."

"The news about the murders and the resurrection lab got out."

Not surprising. Too many people knew. Which I mentioned.

"You're right. I hear the public reaction has been strong. Maybe that's because they've gotten spoiled, shaded by the Civil Guard and the Unpublished Committee. Unorganized crime isn't a commonplace anymore. Something like this spooks people. They want it fixed. Fast."

We moved into the kitchen. Dean was just settling my breakfast onto the massive little table. He placed a bowl of stewed apples opposite me, Singe's favorite food. My hip bone barked when I sat down.

I asked, "How is Morley?" I'd drop in as soon as my belly was full.

"Unchanged. But healing. Doing well, physically."

"But?"

"Something inside doesn't want to come back. So I'm told."

"He did try, early on, at the other place." I had a momentary notion about him getting lost in Faerie, a willing captive of illusion.

"And then he decided not to try anymore."

"Is he working on it?"

"Of course. He says it might take a long time. It's some of the finest, most delicate work he's ever done. What do you think of the rolls?"

"I like them. Spicy. Sweeter than I'm used to."

"They're from a specialty bakery I found in Fointain Lane. Looks like you're done. Get on with your chores. You slept in so you've only got an hour before the meeting."

"What chores? What meeting?"

"We talked about this. You need to make up your room, deal with your pot, and gather your dirty clothing so it can be laundered. Then you have to deal with the trash. The dust-man's wagon will come through the alley this afternoon."

Changes, changes. They come in a blink of the eye these days.

My eyes must have been the size of saucers. I got the sense that Old Bones would have busted out laughing if he wasn't so far gone he no longer exercised a respiratory function.

Welcome to the new regime in the house on Macunado Street.

Like the new regime in TunFaire as a whole, writ small.

"What meeting?" I asked again, maybe a little too plaintively.

"I sent for some people who can help the Windwalker." I had not breathed a word about my night visitor. "You'll have to acquaint them with the facts of the situation. And you'll need to make sure they understand possible ramifications if they do get involved."

"All right, you. What have you done with Pular Singe? And what are you talking about?"

"I just told you."

"But. . If I wanted my life all planned and managed I could've just stayed on Factory Slide."

Oh, my! What did I just say?

"I am not running your life. I'm making it move more efficiently. This meeting had to happen, sooner or later. You would have gone at it piecemeal, catch as catch can."

"Exactly what I mean. Running my. ."

Children, enough! Garrett, please resist becoming all machomale excited because someone is thoughtful enough to ease your burdens. He put some power behind that. It was a command. Pour yourself a fresh mug, then join me for a moment before you start your chores.

This was not going to be a good day. I resented every minute already. I'm not self-employed because I care about efficiency. I'm interested in not having to do more than it takes to get by. Which was why I moved out of my mother's house as soon as I could.

Was that why she always favored Mikey?

Could be, come to think.