Glen Cook: Shadows Linger

Silent did one of those nasty little tricks which amuse him, One-Eye and Goblin. A ball of light drifted around the common room like a curious puppy, poking into things.

The innkeeper believed me enough not to want to call my bluff. “All right. They was here. Like you said. I get a lot of people through in the summer, so I wouldn’t have noticed except like you say, the girl was deaf and the guy was a hard case. She come in in the morning, like she traveled all night. On a wagon. He come in the evening, walking. They stayed off in the corner. They left next morning.” He looked at my coin. “Paid in that same funny coin, come to think.”

“Yeah.”

“Come from a long way off, eh?”

“Yeah. Where’d they go?”

“South. Down the road. Questions I heard the guy ask, I figure they was headed for Chimney.”

I raised an eyebrow. I’d never heard of any place called Chimney.

“Down the coast. Past Shaker. Take the Needle Road out of Shaker. The Tagline Road from Needle. Somewhere south of Tagline there’s a crossroad where you head west. Chimney is on the Salada Peninsula. I don’t know where for sure. Only what I heared from travelers.”

“Uhm. Long hike. How far, you think?”

“See. Two hundred twenty-four miles to Shaker. Round two hundred more to Needle. Tagline is about one eighty on from Needle, I think. Or maybe it’s two eighty. I don’t rightly recollect. That crossroad must be another hundred down from Tagline, then out to Chimney. Don’t know how far that would be. Least another hundred. Maybe two, three. Seen a map oncet, that a fellow showed me. Peninsula sticks way out like a thumb.”

Silent joined us. He produced a scrap of paper and a tiny, steel-tipped pen. He had the innkeeper run through it again. He drew a crude map that he adjusted as the fat man said it did or did not resemble the map he had seen. Silent kept juggling a column of figures. He came up with an estimate in excess of nine hundred miles from Meadenvil. He knocked off the last digit, then wrote the word days and a plus sign. I nodded.

“Probably a four-month trip at least,” I said. “Longer if they spend much time resting up in any of those cities.”

Silent drew a straight line from Meadenvil to the tip of the Salada Peninsula, wrote, est. 600 mi. a. 6 knots = 100 hrs.

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah. That’s why the ship never left. Had to give him a head start. Think we’ll have a talk with the crew tomorrow. Thanks, innkeeper.” I pushed the coin over. “Anything odd happened around here lately?”

A weak smiled stretched his lips. “Not till today.”

“Right. No. I mean like neighbors disappearing, or what-not.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Less you count Moleskin. Hain’t seen him in a while. But that don’t make no never-mind.”

“Moleskin?”

“Hunter. Works the forest over east. Mainly for furs and hides, but brings me game when he needs salt or something. He don’t come around regular, but I reckon he’s overdue. Usually comes in come fall, to get staples for the winter. Thought it was him when your friend come through the door.”

“Eh? Which friend?”

“The one you’re hunting. That carried off this feller’s daughter.”

Silent and I exchanged glances. I said, “Better not count on seeing Moleskin again. I think he’s dead.”

“What brings you to say that?”

I told him a little about Raven faking his own death and leaving a body that had been confused for his.

“Bad thing, that. Yep. Bad thing, doing like that. Hope you catch him up.” His eyes narrowed slightly, cunning. “You fellers wouldn’t be part of that bunch come down from Juniper, would you? Everybody headed south talks about how...” Silent’s glower shut him up.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” I said. “If none of my men are up yet, roust me out at first light.”

“Yes, sir,” the innkeeper said. “And a fine breakfast we’ll fix you, sir.”

And a fine breakfast we had. I tipped the innkeeper another piece of silver. He must have thought me mad.

Half a mile up the road One-Eye called a halt. “You just going to leave them?” he asked.

“What?”

“Those people. First Taken comes down this way is going to find out everything we did.”

My heart flip-flopped. I knew what he was getting at. I had thought about it earlier. But I could not order it. “No point,” I said. “Everybody in Meadenvil is going to see us put out.”

“Everybody in Meadenvil don’t know where we’re headed. I don’t like the idea any better than you do, Croaker. But we have to cut the trail somewhere. Raven didn’t. And we’re on to him.”

“Yeah. I know.” I glanced at Asa and Shed. They were not taking it well. Asa, at least, figured he was next.

“Can’t take them with us, Croaker.”

“I know.”

He swung around, started back. Alone. Not even Otto joined him, and Otto has very little conscience.

“What’s he going to do?” Asa asked.

“Use his magic to make them forget,” I lied. “Let’s move along. He can catch up.”

Shed kept giving me looks. Looks like he must have given Raven when he first found out Raven was in the body business. He did not say anything.

One-Eye caught up an hour later. He busted out laughing. “They were gone,” he said. “Every blessed one, with all their dogs and cattle. Into the woods. Damned peasants.” He laughed again, almost hysterically. I suspect he was relieved.

“We got two days and some gone,” I said. “Let’s push it. The bigger head start we have, the better.”

We reached the outskirts of Meadenvil five hours later, not having pressed as hard as I wanted. As we penetrated the city, our pace lagged. I think we all sensed it. Finally, I stopped. “King, you and Asa wander around and see what you hear. We’ll wait at yonder fountain.” There were no children in the streets. The adults I saw seemed dazed. Those who passed us moved by as widely as they could navigate.

King was back in two minutes. No lollygagging. “Big trouble, Croaker. The Taken got here this morning. Big blowout down at the waterfront.”

I glanced in that direction. A ghost of smoke rose there, as if marking the aftermath of a major fire. The sky to the west, in the direction the wind was blowing, had a dirty look.

Asa returned a minute later with the same news and more. “They got in a big fight with the Prince. Not over yet, some say.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a fight,” One-Eye said.

“I don’t know,” I countered. “Even the Lady can’t be everywhere at once. How the hell did they get here so fast? They didn’t have any carpets.”

“Overland,” Shed said.

“Overland? But ...”

“It’s shorter than the sea trip. Road cuts across. If you ride hard, day and night, you can make it in two days. When I was a kid, they used to have races. They stopped that when the new Duke took over.”

“Guess it doesn’t matter. So. What now?”

“Got to find out what happened,” One-Eye said. He muttered, “If that bastard Goblin got himself killed, I’ll wring his neck.”

“Right. But how do we do that? The Taken know us.”

“I’ll go,” Shed volunteered.

Harder looks you cannot imagine than those we bent upon Marron Shed. He quailed for a moment. Then: “I won’t let them catch me. Anyway, why should they bother me? They don’t know me.”

“Okay,” I said. “Get moving.”

“Croaker...”

“Got to trust him, One-Eye. Unless you want to go yourself.”

“Nope. Shed, you screw us over and I’ll get you if I have to come back from the grave.”

Shed smiled weakly, left us. On foot. Not many people rode through Meadenvil’s streets. We found a tavern and made ourselves at home, two men staying in the street to watch. It was sundown before Shed returned.