Few girls get much education. Tinnie is an exception because amongst the Tates everybody produces. The Tates are more like dwarves than people, some ways. Tinnie manages their bookkeeping.

In time, Tama said, "I'm no night person, Garrett. And I've been up late a lot recently. I need to get to bed."

I missed her point. She reiterated, more directly.

"I need to hit the sack, Garrett. Marengo will strangle me if I leave you unsupervised."

"Oh."

"I'll show you your rooms. I'll trust you not to sneak off with the North English family treasure during the night."

Without light, tippytoeing between the thunder-lizard pups? Wouldn't Venable be pleased?

I didn't run with Tama's straight line. Tinnie waited for it, watching me with smouldering eyes.

Tinnie noted Tama's mention of rooms, plural, as in closed doors for everybody, maybe with nobody knowing where anybody was.

I got assigned first, presumably on the assumption that Tinnie was less likely to go rambling.

It was very dark in my room, beyond the circle cast by Tama's lamp. "There's your bed," she told me. "The chamber pot is underneath. I'll see you and the bird tomorrow." She took off with Tinnie.

I had returned to the door without killing myself on stealthy furniture, leaned into a hallway filled with darkness. The women were out of sight already. Tinnie hadn't left a trail of bread crumbs covered with foxfire. Bad girl. Or maybe not bad enough.

The Goddamn Parrot chuckled softly.

I was beginning to wonder if having the old gutter-beak version of the bird back might not be preferable.

"There are things in the dark," I told him. "Beware!" I shuffled to the bed, undressed.

75

The bed was a fine great mass of down that gulped me whole. I was asleep in seconds, too exhausted to be long disappointed by my solitude.

Nor was I disappointed when, later, I wakened to discover solitude's end. "Did you use a ball of string to mark the way?"

Tinnie hissed, "How did you know it was me?"

"Who else?"

"How about that gaunt witch Montezuma? Or has she been here already?"

I know it's you because I know the scent of your hair and the shape and feel of the rest of you, I didn't say out loud. Also, you are less bony than, not to mention shorter than, the aforementioned gaunt witch. "Not yet, she hasn't. I find it hard to believe myself but not everybody finds me as irresistible as you do."

"Oh? I'm the weak one? You want me to show you just how resistible you really are?"

"Hold it down, will you? You'll wake the parrot up."

"Now you're trying to shush me up?"

I knew just the thing to shush her up. But it didn't take for very long. It never does, partly because Tinnie really likes being shushed up.

Two unpleasant things happened at the same time. The Goddamn Parrot broke out in some kind of sea chanty about swords and silver and dead men while someone else gave me a quick, savage finger poke with a nail probably specially sharpened for the task. A soreness upon my ribs suggested that the offending digit had struck several times previously. A whisper accompanied the pain. "Garrett! Somebody's in here with us!" It was not a quiet whisper. The woman was not ashamed.

I groaned, "You're evil. Let me rest."

The bird shrieked like his just deserts were trying to get hold of him. Tinnie snarled, "Garrett! There's somebody in here, dammit!" Which pronouncement was followed immediately by a racket as somebody tripped over some sly and belligerent bit of furniture.

The Goddamn Parrot screamed rape. Tinnie screamed fire, presumably on the assumption that that was more likely to get attention. I yelled, "Be quiet!"

As I climbed out of bed, feeling around for something suitable for bashing undesirable visitors, furniture crashed nearer and nearer the door. Said door opened. For an instant a hunched shape shown in silhouette against a ghostly light from the corridor. Before the door closed I had taken advantage of that light to navigate past two pieces of furniture that would have ambushed me otherwise because they did not seem to be where I remembered them. A third piece, more patient than the others, waited till the door closed to move into position.

The impact of plunging headfirst into a wall—even with my arms thrown forward to absorb it—was enough to leave me groggy and seeing double. Which I was doing when I opened the door and leaned out cautiously.

My night visitor was moving away fast, vaguely illuminated by a weak lantern trailing from her left hand. Her? The figure looked something like Tama, and also a little like the herd boy Tollie, yet distorted. Perhaps by the crack taken by my noggin. So maybe the sweet thing had considered offering some special hospitality and been panicked by hearing Tinnie speak as she was sneaking up on me. Maybe. It could happen.

I could not think of a reason why the kid would want to sneak in on me. Unless he thought he was entering Tinnie's room.

Whichever, how come the wannabe visitor's other hand was hanging on to a hatchet or cleaver or some such large, heavy, sharp piece of metal?

"Who was it?" Tinnie whispered from behind me.

"I don't know."

"I'll bet I can guess."

"No doubt you can. To the bleakest possibility. And make it all my fault."

"Hey, that's your place, lover. In the wrong. You think we should barricade the door? Just in case?"

"I think we should barricade the door." If what I thought I saw was real, that was one nasty piece of iron. "Just in case. But you'd better hope they don't hold bed check over to your room."

"I sleepwalk."

Right. We moved some furniture. Then we went back to bed. Then, somehow, I got distracted and ended up falling asleep before I had a chance to spend any time figuring out what had just happened.

76

If Tama Montezuma knew anything about or had had anything to do with or had any feelings about the previous night's events, she gave no sign at breakfast. "Good morning, Garrett. I would've wakened you earlier but Tinnie told me you haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Damn! I never warned Tinnie. But she was all right so it didn't matter.

"He seldom gets up before the crack of noon, anyway," Tinnie said. "This's way early for him."

"Hey!" I protested. Then, "Never mind. Tama, Tinnie tells me you've had word that Marengo is headed home."

"A messenger came a few hours ago. Said Marengo is on his way. And that he won't be in a good mood." For just an instant her eyes seemed shifty, evasive, troubled. "Last night didn't work out for him."

"How come he left you here?" I had been thinking about that and, not being a major aficionado of Marengo North English, had developed some suspicions concerning Marengo and his interest in female persons who were not his wife or niece. I refused to believe that North English was so devoted to his convictions that he had gone off to help bully TunFaire's nonhuman population.

"A dangerous level of confrontation was anticipated." That sounded like a quote from Marengo. "But before you jump to any conclusions, I chose to remain here." And that sounded like the truest thing she had said for a while.

I glanced at Tinnie. Her thoughts had taken her elsewhere.

I hadn't seen anything yesterday to suggest that something dramatic was going happen. On the other hand, I had spent the whole day distracted. Tinnie's presence seldom left me with attention to spare.

Still, you tend not to overlook big gangs of guys all dressed in brown marching back and forth singing and busting heads wherever they find somebody not dressed in brown and marching and singing their favorite songs.