He whirled and set about twisting this and pushing that on a twin to the machine I’d last seen six floors above.

Jerle moved to stand by my side. “Be seated,” he said, motioning me toward a table and a single chair. A curiously shaped brass funnel sat atop this table too.

I sat, leaned forward, waited for Evis’s voice to sound from within the thing.

For a moment, there was silence. And then a burst of noise, and then, just for an instant, the sound of something like music, if the musicians were Trolls and afflicted with serious throat infections.

The tall halfdead scowled anew at me and gave a brass wheel a savage twist.

The music vanished.

“…hit the bloody thing again,” said Evis.

“You’ll break it if you do and they’ll blame me,” I said. “Where are you? How are the ladies? Can I book a stateroom for the next pleasure cruise?”

A burst of noise drowned his next few words. “…are fine. Buttercup caught a fish. Miss Gertriss sends her regards. We are well ahead of schedule. Engines performing beyond expectations. Weather is holding. Any more visitors from the old country?”

“None. Mama is fine. Lot of people leaving the city, though. You may come home to find it empty.”

“Just so it’s in one piece. Have you spoken with our boss yet?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure. Will mention that you asked. Any sign of our friends from the north?”

“We started seeing their trash in the water yesterday. Stupid on their part. We now know they’re eating potatoes grown on Butler Farms and drinking Yotton beer from cheap pine kegs.”

“Hurrah. The war is won.” I wished for some privacy but wasn’t going to get it. “Is Gertriss there with you?”

“No. She’s taking a nap with Buttercup. Something wrong?”

“Mama’s taking some pretty big risks with the hex-caster. He's ex-army. From Prince. We all know Mama has a bad temper, but this isn’t some backwoods hex doctor we’re talking about.”

“She’s a tough old bird, Markhat. But if she loses this round, well, you and I will take a little trip that way once this is all over.”

“Hope it doesn’t come to that. When do you think you’ll hit the bluffs?”

“A good day early. Morning too. Plenty of time to make preparations. Did you know ogres get seasick?”

I never got a chance to answer. First came a deafening blast of that atonal music and a shower of sparks, and then a dozen red-shirts with their buckets of sand.

The copper funnel fell silent. The scowling halfdead shot me a look of pure hatred and called for help, and within moments the tall machine was surrounded by frowning workers who pointed and shook their heads and did a full week’s worth of heavy sighing in the time it took Jerle to arrive at my side and gently touch my elbow.

“I believe we should be going, sir,” he said.

We went. I pretended not to hear the unflattering commentary offered by the halfdead lamenting the fate of his machine.

Once we were three flights up, I relaxed a bit, but only a bit. Evis hadn’t shared anything worth ruining a long-talking dingus, and I didn’t think I’d revealed anything of worth to him. So why trot me down into the midst of Avalante’s secret machine works?

“I imagine sir will be wanting a carriage for the evening,” said Jerle. He opened a door. We were back up to ground level, and I’d not noticed.

“Now that you mention it, I would. With a driver who knows his way around a knocking stick, if you please.”

“I believe all our drivers are well versed in that particular art, sir. If you will wait here.”

I found a comfy chair and sat. Halfdead hurried past, all business, in greater numbers than I was accustomed to seeing. I wondered if they were preparing for the worst and decided they probably were.

I hadn’t even picked up an extra bucket of jerky for Three-leg. Or asked Evis about a room for Darla, should the cannons from Prince reach Rannit bombard our walls. Not that I was sure she would agree to take refuge with the halfdead.

“The carriage is ready, sir,” intoned Jerle. He pointed gently toward the door. “If you will show yourself out?”

“I will. And thanks.”

He nodded and was gone, a whispering halfdead on either side.

I showed myself out, as instructed. For the first time, there was no one at Avalante’s door to fetch my hat, so I fetched it myself and closed the tall thick doors carefully behind me.

Chapter Seventeen

“Of course I’m fine,” said Tamar. Mr. Tibbles looked up at me from her lap and growled. “I’ve caught up on my reading. I’ve written some letters. I’ve worked on the guest list for the wedding.”

“All from your room.” I didn’t ask it as a question. I was hoping the inference would be clear enough.

“Of course from my room. I’m not a ninny, you know. Although I don’t feel as if anyone is watching me. They really do think I’m your pregnant wife. The maids have been bringing up extra bits of food from the kitchen. They’ve said the most unflattering things about you, even though they’ve never met you.”

“All true, by the way.”

“So. Tonight you meet with my future father-in-law.”

I nodded.

“You’ll find out where Carris is, and you’ll go and fetch him.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Well, you’re aware the wedding is in three days?”

“Painfully.” I spoke fast to cover the gaffe. “You know, when this is over, you and Carris may have to make some hard decisions about maintaining family ties with the Lethways.”

“It will make for some awkwardness at Yule meals, won’t it though?” She shrugged and fed Mr. Tibbles another bit of bread. “I don’t care, Mr. Markhat. If we have to go and live in Sutton or Carland or even by the Sea, we will. I’ve had quite enough of people telling me who I can and cannot marry.”

“Good for you.” I rose. “Coming back here after Curfew will raise too many eyebrows. So I’ll be around in the morning. Hopefully with good news.”

“We’ll be here. Mr. Tibbles will be waiting. Won’t you, Mr. Tibbles?”

The dog had sense enough not to bark in reply. But I swear he met my gaze and gave me a stern look of doggie reproach.

“In the morning, then.”

I left. Maids whispered at my back, but no one else paid me any undue attention. There were no toughs idling in the lobby or pretending to look at handbills by the street doors. I circled the place a couple of times to see if anyone from one trip was still there the next, but no one lingered in place.

From there, I set forth in search of Mills, thinking I’d need someone watching my back if only for the look of the thing. Finding Mills wasn’t hard, and neither was hiring him. Getting him into some semblance of respectable evening attire was another matter, but luckily some of my clothes fit and what didn’t wasn’t so bad that it would attract attention.

The sluggard sun was setting by the time we got that squared away. There was no time to rest at Avalante, so I set Mills at my desk and took to my bed for a quick nap before confronting Lethway at the Banner.

My plan to drag information out of Lethway was weak at best. Tamar might be under the wary gaze of plotting eyes even as I lay down my head. Dozens of armed plowboys might be creeping toward my door as I lay, eager to fulfill the hex that rode them unawares.

So naturally, I slept, and slept hard, right up until I heard boots scrape at my back room door.

“Rise and shine, boss,” said Mills from the other side. “Time to go make powerful people angry.”

“What a wit,” I muttered. “All quiet out there?”

“So far. I need to make water.”

“Bathhouse is down the street. I need to make a stop too.” I rose, grabbed my things, made for the door. “Let’s get this done.”

Mills grinned at me, his face diabolical in the dark. Then he walked away.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. He hadn’t seen Toadsticker’s hilt in my hand, hadn’t realized that just for an instant something in his grin had rendered me temporarily homicidal.