Whispering Nickel Idols

71

Belinda took three steps into the Dead Man’s room. She froze, gaped at her father.

Chodo sensed the new presence but could not see who it was.

Take the deacon out when you go. Put him into the cart. Get rid of him.

Dean gave me a hand. For reasons probably having to do with externally applied inhibitions, I didn’t wonder what Colonel Block would think about us turning his prisoner loose. Nor did I wonder why Old Bones wanted him running free. With my experience I should’ve been more suspicious.

After a long adventure through nasty streets, Dean and I abandoned cart and deacon not far from the Al-Khar. We trudged home exchanging lies about who was more tired. I got there to find the seating arrangements in the Dead Man’s room revised. There seemed to be plenty enough kittens to provide several for every Contague. The big boy from Ymber was snoring. Harvester Temisk looked like he was dead. But he kept on breathing. Poor Harvester. His only role now was to take up space.

I asked, “What happened to Saucerhead and Winger?”

“Winger is in your office,” Singe told me. “Saucerhead went looking for her friend and to find someone the Dead Man wants to consult.”

“Who? Why?”

“I was not invited into the planning.”

The way things usually work around here. “Winger is in my office? Gods! I hope she’s empty.”

“She is now.”

Dean muttered something about the ever-expanding population of the house and disappeared. I thought he was off to whip up something to eat. Instead, he dragged his sorry ass off to bed.

I settled in the Dead Man’s room, leaning against the wall. There were no seats available. Nor would be soon, I suspected. I was ready to collapse from exhaustion. Yet again. But I didn’t want to miss anything.

The Dead Man was working some Loghyr mojo on our dysfunctional family guests. Assisted by a gaggle of cats.

Chodo was more alive than ever. I stared. I wasn’t frightened. I felt creepiness instead. In times gone by there’d always been terror when I was near the kingpin.

“Am I over that?” Seemed like a good time to find out if my sidekick was paying attention.

Unlikely. Changes are going on inside Mr. Contague. The impact of the kittens is much greater in the company of their high priestess. Which the girl has become by default, as sole survivor of her temple. A-Lat herself is hidden inside the child. And inside the Luck. Too scattered to have much power. Which is our great good fortune. We would not stand up to her otherwise. Nevertheless, the effect here will not be one hundred percent. And there is little chance of permanence.

I made grunting sounds. Deities make me nervous. There are a zillion of them, all real, all at cross-purposes, all unpleasant. Ninety-nine out of a hundred have no interest whatsoever in the well-being of mortals. Particularly if the mortal is named Garrett. And there was little evidence that this encounter would turn out positive-despite A-Lat’s salutary impact on Chodo’s madness at the moment.

“Can I note that more than one heart is in agony here?”

Careful what you wish for. Some may not enjoy being cured. Not till later did I realize he was painting me with that brush.

I told anybody who cared, “I’m going to bed. We can wrap this up tomorrow.” I had some thinking to do, too. I do that best without distractions.