"Excellent. Makes you just like the rest of the team. Morley!" Damned if he wasn't flirting with Alyx. Or maybe Nicks. Oblivious to the fact that the Weiders, father and son, were looking at him in a way more often seen in rightsists observing nonhuman behavior. "Don't do this to me, Morley."

He grasped the situation instantly. "You're right. Not smart. But it'll be torture holding back."

"Tell me something I haven't had to live with for half of forever." I collected Block and joined North English, who still refused to come down from the second floor. "Singe says she might help track Tama. But she refuses to help either one of you." I doubted that she knew who either man was, really, but neither was beloved of ratpeople and a refusal would be no surprise to them.

"Why is that old man here?" North English asked. I noted he kept his back to the visitor. Did he know the man? Was he afraid he might be recognized?

The old-timer took his mug and settled into a chair he dragged over beside the settling tank. There was a quiver in his drinking hand. I had a distinct feeling that it would be a long time before Glory Mooncalled was again a major factor in Karentine affairs. After this interview it would take him an age to reclaim his confidence and build a new underground, the secrets of which were known only to his friends. He would have no secrets after this interview. And he looked too old to start from scratch.

I hoped the bag of bones inside that damned tank had the gods-given good sense to do like I'd asked and rifle the minds of Marengo North English, Bondurant Altoona, and their like tonight. If we robbed them of all their secrets, we could disarm them, too. In fact, if he hadn't been just too damned lazy, he might've spared a mind to sneak a peek at what was going on inside the heads of Block and Relway and maybe even that scab of clabbered misery off the Hill, Perilous Spite. But I doubted he had the nerve to try the latter. Too much personal risk involved.

"Nobody. Friend of a friend." I went back down to Singe. "Do you have a scent?"

"Yes."

She was a marvel, picking it out of the mess that had to be in that hall.

I was surprised immediately. Instead of heading for any door Tama had marched right into the kitchen, past a flabbergasted Neersa Bintor, into the pantry, and from there had descended to the cellars below the house. Which, I shouldn't have been surprised, connected to the caverns beneath the brewery.

"This woman definitely had everything worked out ahead of time," Morley said.

Absolutely. I hadn't known about this way out. Or in, maybe, if you had connections at the brewery end. Had Tama been through there occasionally, say to visit Gerris Genord? Having someone special to protect certainly would explain his stubborn silence. And Tama knew how to get her hooks into a man.

I wondered what she would've done if Mooncalled's rescue gang had shown up on time. Would she have pretended there was no connection and have tried to stick with Marengo?

As we dithered trying to get lights for my feeble human eyes the Goddamn Parrot squawked, then abandoned me.

Garrett. Do not overlook the chance that a great many watchers will be prepared to follow you.

"A possibility very much on my mind." I ignored the odd looks that remark earned me.

106

Morley cursed softly. Somehow, cobwebs had gotten onto the lace of one of his cuffs. Soil was supposed to avoid him. "This isn't the fun it used to be, Garrett."

"Fun? Fun doesn't have anything to do with it. We're the last righteous men, standing with jaws firm in the face of the chaos."

Pular Singe giggled.

Morley cursed again, but conceded, "It is a great way to meet interesting women."

"Can't disagree with that." Strange ones, too. "What is it?" Singe had stopped. She sniffed. I couldn't see a thing. The one lantern I'd come up with hadn't lasted all the way through the underground passage.

We were in the wagon lot behind the brewery loading docks, having exited the brewery through the storage caves. I hadn't been able to stop and share a tankard with Mr. Burkel, who'd been disappointed. But he'd told us we were only minutes behind Tama, who hadn't been able to negotiate the tunnels with our ease.

"She got aboard a wagon," Singe told me.

There were at least twenty of those crowded into the lot, waiting for sunrise. Morley grumped something about have to search them all. Singe said, "No, the wagon left."

I glanced back at the dock. There were two dock wallopers on duty, snoozing on stools under a single feeble lantern. Nights, of course, they only loaded independent haulers.

I woke them up. With sullen cheer they admitted having loaded a small wagon a short time earlier. "One driver," one told me. "Out of Dwarf Fort. They' re fixin' to celebrate one of their holidays."

"She's on a cart out of Dwarf Fort," I told Morley.

"Then we'd better move fast." Dwarf Fort wasn't far away.

"She won't be headed there herself. She knows about Singe and she's improvising. She'll get off before the wagon goes inside."

Embarrassed, Singe informed me, "I cannot trail her well if she is riding."

"So how about you follow the wagon? Or the horses, if you can stand the stink? You knew she got into a wagon and there's only been one go out of here lately, seems like you could."

Singe brightened instantly. That hadn't occurred to her. Yet. It would have. She sniff-sniff-sniffed, then headed out.

"Not only brilliant and talented and beautiful but fast as well," Morley whispered. "You don't want to let this one get away."

"Did Marengo North English and Bondurant Altoona rub off on you?" He was ragging me at Singe's expense.

"Whoa!" He started to argue but decided against. "All right. Let's abuse the parrot." Who, conveniently, wasn't around to defend himself. He'd chosen to stay behind. Apparently. I was always the last to know what that overdressed crow was up to. Or even what that critter who figured everything out for him was up to, for that matter. We were in for some headbutting after this mess settled out.

"Wish you'd decided that a year ago. Then maybe held him underwater to see how long he could go without breathing." Singe flinched. She still wasn't used to our banter. It always took her a moment to realize we weren't really about to skin each other. "I'm thinking about spiking your goulash with catnip. Then you'd wake up married to Winger."

"Couldn't. She's already got a husband somewhere. And I'm engaged."

"Really? When did that happen?"

"Oh, back before I was born. I just don't talk about it much. My grandparents arranged it. They were immigrants. They stuck to the old ways. They still try to."

"I'll bet you're a major disappointment."

"They weep human tears at every family gathering."

"When are you supposed to start making this poor woman miserable?"

"Oh, a long time ago. But she never showed up for the ceremony."

"Smart woman."

"She just hadn't met me. If she had... I don't know if I could've talked my way out of that. The old folks are stubborn as rocks. They still carry on like it was my fault. They can't blame it on Indalir's family. They have royal blood. As if every elf who ever walked doesn't, the way those people tumble anybody who can't outrun them."

"I'm glad you aren't the kind of lowlife who finds women interesting."

"Definitely one weakness you can't pin on me."

Pular Singe stopped. She turned slowly, nostrils flaring. Morley shut up and began searching the night, too. He loosened his swordcane. I said, "I hoped they'd lose us because of those tunnels."

Singe said, "No. Not watchers. It is the two evil men who escaped. They met the wagon here." She dropped to all fours, circled, sniffed.