Port of Shadows by Glen Cook
“Watching? What?”
“You. Us. Everyone. To see what happens.”
“Know something, kiddo? I don’t like this. I wish it was her that came back so we could go back to the way…”
Firefly grinned from ear to ear. “Ha-ha-ha!” Not a laugh but a statement. “Me, too, Dad! And Shin three, Dad. And, wow, that man has got some really wicked bruises.”
He did, and they were still developing.
I had Two Dead mostly stripped. He had bruises on his bruises. He had bruises enough to start up a medical museum dedicated to contusions. At first I figured that he must have had a whole load before he tried the girls’ dorm, but now I could see that every one was fresh.
Either Nwynn and Cato were dedicated workers or they had had help. Two Dead had been stomped as thoroughly as I have ever seen. I would guess, after closer examination, that he had been well trampled by lots of smaller feet in widely varying sizes.
Cato had lied. No way could she have done this. She would need legs like a centipede, every foot with a different-size boot on.
So, dumbass Two Dead had made it all the way into the dorm. Maybe then Cato whacked him from behind. And then the Tides Elba girls took turns. Maybe the good sergeant rescued him but then blessed him with a vigorous stomping of her own before lugging him over here.
I might ought to remember not to irritate Sergeant Nwynn unnecessarily.
Two Dead would not be happy when he wakened. The question would be, had he been thumped well enough to discourage him permanently?
Firefly went on watching me work, grinning like some happy little nightmare.
* * *
Two Dead started awake, in a panic. He recognized me, relaxed slightly. He rolled his head, saw what sort of place he was in. He began to shake. He would be hurting bad.
Before he spoke he checked his missing hand—still missing—then inventoried his other extremities.
I had opiate tea ready. He should have a killer hangover to go with everything else. “Painkiller?” I showed him the mug. He reflected, concluded that I was not trying to kill him. I had had him at a total disadvantage already. He extended his good hand.
“Let me sit you up, first.” I had him laid out on a cleverly designed table that Edmous Black had brought out from town. Parts of it could drop down or raise up, to turn it into an uncomfortable chair. I sat Two Dead up, then gave him the tea, with a bamboo tube in so he did not need to do any fine motor work with his shaky hand.
That done, I pulled up a tall stool and waited to hear his version of what had happened.
However, he demanded, “What happened?” He took a long draw from the mug. “I feel like I’ve been beaten.”
“Because you were beaten. Vigorously, and then some more. Which you very clearly asked for. You don’t remember?”
Chodroze frowned, which made his facial scar stand out more than usual. “My last clear memory is of me helping the Taken keep her balance when she stepped off the carpet. After that there is a vague recollection of an exchange with the Captain and the Lieutenant. From then on, nothing.”
“No drinks? No drugs, just to loosen up after that awful trip?”
“I don’t drink. I don’t use drugs. I don’t like not being in complete control. What happened to me?”
“I would love to say that you fell down some steps but the truth is a whole lot uglier.”
He laid a calculating look on me, decided that I was not lying, probably. There should be witnesses to corroborate or disagree.
“While you were gone we collected twenty-nine more girls like the four that you took to the Tower.”
“I know. That was a key topic before we left.” He frowned ferociously, trying to understand what had led him to say that.
I nodded. “Last night, just a couple of hours after you arrived, you tried to force your way into the dormitory where those girls are kept. You acted like you were falling-down drunk. Most of what you said was incoherent or in a language nobody understood. The soldiers guarding the girls tried to stop you. You kept trying to break in. The guards eventually used force, in accordance with their standing orders.”
Two Dead stared like I had to be spinning the grandest lie ever spun. He grumbled, more to himself than to me, “That doesn’t sound like Shoré Chodroze. I don’t even like women.”
“Even so.”
He shook his head and kept trying to remember.
I said, “One trooper admitted to the violence when they brought you in, but your bruises say that you did get into the dormitory, where the girls banged on you till the guards dragged you out. You have bruise marks from shoes in many sizes, from little to big. You really set them off.”
He looked blank.
I have been drunk often. It helps, sometimes. But never have I been so drunk that I lost a chunk of time. All good sense, yes, but I suspect that most claimed memory loss is fabricated to avoid having to take full responsibility for bad behavior.
“There’ll be an inquiry. It won’t mean much if none of the girls got hurt. I haven’t heard that any were.”
Two Dead’s eyes narrowed. The infusion worked fast. When the pain receded it distracted him less. He understood that he would be the accused rather than the plaintiff, a situation someone of his stature seldom faced.
“I stayed here last night so I haven’t talked with the Captain or the Taken. I hope the rumor mill hasn’t gone crazy. And I’m hoping the Taken can figure out what happened.”
I had a suspicion. If those girls were synched up mentally more than anyone thought, they might have read Two Dead’s nature from the Taken, have decided that he was a threat, and so have drawn him in for disposal.
“You knew about the girls before you came back. Did you get any special instructions concerning them?”
His reply might have been instructive. “Not that I am aware of. She didn’t seem concerned. My brief was to resume my role as lead sorcerer of the Black Company.”
It is not bragging if you can back it up. Two Dead could, though in this case he was embellishing.
“Ah. Edmous. Good morning. When you collect breakfasts for the patients pick up a double for the Colonel.” A thought. I peeled back Two Dead’s lips. “Open wide. Feel any damage in there? Any teeth loose? Any pain in the teeth or jaw?” No. His attackers had kept their feet away from his head, possibly a message that he was unlikely to get.
No sheltered temple girl would think of something like that but Chiba Vinh Nwynn might.
Much to think about. “Edmous?”
Black stared at Firefly like he was nose-to-nose with a nightmare. Baku wore a tiny devil smile, pleased with herself about something.
“Uh … Yes sir. Get the Colonel double rations. Should I bring something for you and … her?”
“Absolutely.”
Black asked Two Dead, “Will you be able to manage solid food, sir?”
“I’ll want oatmeal, scrambled eggs, and tea. If they’re available. Use your own judgment if not. But lots of tea.”
“Yes sir.” Black took one more look at Firefly, then lit out. He did not consult our other patients about their breakfast preferences.
I talked with Two Dead till Black returned. Chodroze was abnormally civil and chatty but just did not have anything to add. He was not being cagey, either, except in that he wanted to hide the fact that he was extremely upset.
He had been proven vulnerable. He did not like that even a little.
Black brought mush and eggs for everybody. I gobbled mine, said, “Edmous, I was up all night with the Colonel. I’m wasted. I’m going to nap, now. I’ll be next door if you need me.”
“Yes, sir. I won’t disturb you unless it’s an emergency.”
Firefly stuck with me, began her bed preps beside me. I asked, “Why don’t you go back upstairs?”
“No.”
“I’m too tired to argue.”
“Good.”
“But you have to go back eventually. I need a spy on the insid
“Then talk to Shin and Ankou. I want to stay with you.”
I was climbing into bed then, sleep starved and even less inclined to argue. She climbed in behind me. I asked, “What did you do to Edmous?”
“I just haunted him.”
“Why?”
“It’s all settled. It won’t happen again if he doesn’t do something else that he shouldn’t if he’s going to be my dad’s good helper.” Then she fell asleep, or pretended to fall asleep so stubbornly that I could not get another question answered.
* * *
Gurdlief’s prodding and Firefly’s mumbled threat to rip off his arm and brain him with it awakened me. I felt miserably unrested, yet got a spark of warmth out of the moment. When I was little my mother used that same threat in multiple name situations. Those befell my sisters more often than they did me, but I did have my moments of glory.
“What?” I snarled it. I was in a foul mood despite the spark of nostalgia. The warmth only briefly preceded a cold hollow where I wondered what had become of my kin. Bitterness followed. None of those people gave a damn about what had become of me.
This time Gurdlief poked me.
“I’m up. I’m awake. And I’m about to…”
“Sana said to tell you it’s suppertime. And she says that there’s something wrong with the Taken. Maybe she’s sick. I didn’t think they could get sick. The Taken, I mean. So maybe she’s pregnant. She’s been that kind of moody all day. Maybe you’re going to be a father again.”
Firefly looked like she wanted to chop Gurdlief into Ankou chow. But she said, “That ain’t possible, Gurd. Dad never touched her. He never even touched…”
Six years old but she knew about that stuff. Definitely a devil, not a child.
I told the devil, “This is something we need to deal with.”
* * *
The town girls laid on an outstanding supper: bread still steaming from the oven, early harvest turnips and peas, baby onions, and ridiculously tasty pork sausages. There was fresh butter and honey for the bread. Most kings did not have it so good.
Those girls were determined to show the new Mischievous Rain that her predecessor had hired the best, most talented young women to be had.
They had not wanted the work back when their families pushed them to apply for it. Now they were willing to fight to keep their positions. They could not wish for anything better.
The new Taken did not care. To her the girls were furniture.
Beloved Shin awarded each girl a grand smile when she delivered a fresh course. Blessed Baku offered verbal thanks. Both were breaking character, all for the Taken’s benefit.
She did not notice. She was indifferent to everything. She had gone missing inside herself and was straying ever farther from the quotidian. I might have to move her to the hospital and start force-feeding her.
How had a stump like her flown a carpet all the way out here? Or had this state come about because of the stress of that passage?
Had to be more than that. Physical and emotional exhaustion must have left her vulnerable to something else.
So. Two Dead went rogue, fresh off the carpet. Now Mischievous Rain had gone lost, too.
Those girls. This one’s sisters. I figured them for the common denominator.
We might have us a boiled-frog situation. The Taken and Two Dead would be frogs tossed into the pot once it was already boiling. The rest of us had been in the water since before the fire was lighted so we never noticed the water getting hotter.
* * *
The Captain glared past me but said nothing about Firefly tagging along. That would betray the possibility that sometimes he got up to stuff that he preferred the Taken not know about, and even less wanted to abuse the Tower’s blissful ignorance. “A sit-down with all of the sorcerers? We spend too much time talking instead of doing already.”
“Yes. We’re into something unlike anything we’ve ever seen. We don’t know what it is. That’s why we keep talking and talking. I can’t even express it. It’s something that we can’t handle the way we usually do. We can’t trick it. We can’t crush it by being the nastiest killers on the field. It’s all inside. Insidious.”
A grin for wordplay that went right by him. I was making a mash of this. But it was nothing concrete. The words might not exist to define it.
I soldiered on. “The problem with the girls being concentrated is worse than we thought.” I vented my full theory.
“That’ll put a smile back on Two Dead if you’re right. He’s making himself crazy trying to figure out how he could have done what he did and not be able to remember it.”
“Is he all right otherwise?” Two Dead had fled the hospital while I napped.
“No. He can hardly move. Even blinking has got to hurt. But he’s a stubborn asshole. He’ll do things his own way even if it kills him.” He took a moment. “All right. Let’s do it now. Before anything gets any crazier. Silent can’t be here, though. Him and Elmo, with eighty men and four shadow pots, went to give that Resurrectionist place another look.”
“I was going to suggest that we do that.”
“You looked at those papers yet?”
“I did. But they’re in UchiTelle, not TelleKurre. The only one I got any sense from was a kind of tax roll.”
“We need to get them to the Tower somehow. Messenger! Front! I have work for you.” To me, “Get the Taken. She should be here, too.”
“She’s practically a vegetable right now.”
“Then carry her. But get her here.”
* * *
Everywhere I went, there Blessed Baku was. She seldom said anything so it was not always easy to remember that she was close by, big eyes watching and cute ears listening. As I was on my way to collect the Taken she said, “You should tell Mom what’s happening.”
“I did that already.”
“Do it again. I’ll do it with you. She hasn’t taken this stuff seriously enough.”
Six years old.
The faux Mischievous Rain remained at the dinner table, eyes open but empty. Ankou watched from nearby. He had his third eye open for the first time in an age.
Beloved Shin was nowhere to be seen.
Firefly shrugged, took my right hand, and led me into her mother’s bedroom, which had become the repository for all the clutter that had come east with the Taken. I had to move two chests so we could position ourselves. I said, “You hide in the shadows. You walk through the shadows. Could you run all the way to the Tower?” Maybe I had a way to get those papers to the Lady.
“No.”
“Too far?”
“Way too far.”
“Too bad. I’m ready.” I ran through the formula, Firefly prompting, my hand on my bit of carved lapis. Merry wind chimes filled the room.
Baku started jabbering before I could open my mouth. Her delivery was rapid, forceful, and smooth. I did not understand a word. The language was alien. It seemed to include no accented or stressed syllables. I did get that Baku was unhappy. She thought it was time somebody got off the pot.
She finished, sudden as a sword stroke.
The wind chimes sang, chagrined.
My bold little girl, giving them hell in the Tower.
“What is going on in here?”
“So you finally woke up.”
“I asked a question.” Red-eyed angry.
I might have grumbled something stupid but Blessed Baku stepped in front of me. “We were consulting Mother about how to proceed with you.”
Wind chimes let us know that we were being watched. The chimes were neither merry nor melodic. The Taken felt their anger.
“Very well. Proceed.” She turned away.
“Hang on,” I said. “We have a meeting with the command staff when Baku and I finish here.”
The kid was talking softly at the same time, the other direction, and, apparently, was getting answers that I could not hear.
The Taken started to vent something. Chimes foresta
She did look like death on a stick. “Please be quick. The discussion is time-sensitive.”
She gave me a poisonous look but nodded. “This is where I will need to take care of myself. Not so?”
“It is. We won’t…”
Baku said, “We’re done. For now.” She gave the Taken a steely look. She did not speak the formula for breaking contact with the Tower.
I saw Ankou at his bowl as I shut the bedroom door. He winked.
Firefly and I settled at the table to wait. Formerly missing Beloved Shin was there, playing solitaire with a shiny new deck. Where had he come from? When? While we consulted the wind chimes, obviously. He laid out his cards. He noticed Firefly staring at those. “They came out with her,” pointing toward the bedroom. “Mom sent them.”
Firefly grinned wickedly.
I asked, “Did you tell her about the carpet that Slapback saw?”
“I did. We will hear more about that soon. Things have not gone according to plan out here. Some changes might be coming.”
I did not ask. I would not get a straight answer. “Yonder woman sure recovered fast once we started talking to the Tower.”
“She did.” Baku considered Shin. “Where have you been, bonehead? And doing what?”
“Observing.” He slapped at some cards that had not come up the way he wanted, like that would change their spots. He had the patience of stone with things that mattered but could be volatile with things that did not.
I asked, “So who is she?” not actually expecting an answer.
Baku said, “Mischievous Rain.”
Shin said, “Tides Elba,” at the same time.
“But she’s not your mother.”
“No.”
“So then who…” The Taken stepped out of the bedroom. She had accomplished wonders in a scant few minutes, having fully restored her glory of a year ago. Her mood seemed elevated, too.
Had she gotten a pep talk from the Tower during her reconstruction?
She said, “If this thing is that important, we should get to it now.”