Shed sat up so suddenly his head twisted around. Somebody
started beating drums inside. He rolled to the edge of the bed and
was noisily sick. And then became sick in another way. With
terror.
“I told her. I told her the whole damned thing.” He
tried to jump up. He had to get out of Juniper before the
Inquisitors came. He had gold. A foreign captain might take him
south. He could catch up with Raven and
Asa . . . He settled onto the cot, too
miserable to act. “I’m dying,” he muttered.
“If there’s a hell, this is what it’s going to be
like.”
Had he told her? He thought so. And for nothing. He had gotten
nothing. “Marron Shed, you were born to lose. When will you
ever learn?”
He rose once more, cautiously, and fumbled through his hiding
place. The gold was there. Maybe he hadn’t told her
everything. He considered the amulet. Lisa could follow the trail
blazed by Sue. If she hadn’t told anybody yet. But she would
be wary, wouldn’t she? Be hard to catch her off guard. Even
assuming he could find her.
“My head! Gods! I can’t think.” There was a
sudden racket downstairs. “Damn,” he muttered.
“She left the place unlocked. They’ll steal
everything.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. Such an end he had
come to. Maybe that was Bullock and his thugs knocking around down
there.
Best to meet his fate. Cursing, he eased into his clothing,
began the long journey downstairs.
“Good morning, Mr. Shed,” Lisa called brightly.
“What will you have for breakfast?”
He stared, gulped, finally stumbled to a table, sat there with
his head in his hands, ignoring the amused stare of one of his
companions of the Gilbert adventure.
“A little hung over, Mr. Shed?” Lisa asked.
“Yes.” His own voice sounded thunderous.
“I’ll mix you something my father taught me to make.
He’s a master drunkard, you know.”
Shed nodded weakly. Even that proved painful. Lisa’s
father was one reason he had hired her. She needed all the help she
could get. Another of his charities gone sour.
She returned with something so foul even a sorcerer would not
have touched it. “Drink fast. It goes down easier that
way.”
“I can imagine.” Half praying it would poison him,
he gulped the malodorous concoction. After gasping for breath, he
murmured, “When are they coming? How long do I
have?”
“Who, Mr. Shed?”
“The Inquisitors. The law. Whoever you called.”
“Why would they come here?”
Painfully, he raised his gaze to meet hers.
She whispered, “I told you I’ll do anything to get
out of the Buskin. This is the chance I’ve been looking for.
We’re partners now, Mr. Shed. Fifty-fifty.”
Shed buried his head in his hands and groaned. It would never
end. Not till it devoured him. He cast curses on Raven and all his
house.
The common room was empty. The door was closed. “First we
have to take care of Gilbert,” Lisa said.
Shed bobbed his head, refused to look up.
“That was stupid, giving him jewelry he would recognize.
He’ll kill you if we don’t kill him first.”
Again Shed bobbed his head. Why me? he whined to himself. What
have I done to deserve this?
“And don’t you think you can get rid of me the way
you did Sue and that blackmailer. My father has a letter
he’ll take to Bullock if I disappear.”
“You’re too smart for your own good.” And:
“It won’t be long till winter.”
“Yes. But we won’t do it Raven’s way. Too
risky and too much work. We’ll get charitable. Let all the
derelicts in. One or two can disappear every night.”
“You’re talking murder!”
“Who’ll care? Nobody. They’ll be better off
themselves. Call it mercy.”
“How can anybody so young be so heartless?”
“You don’t prosper in the Buskin if you have a
heart, Mr. Shed. We’ll fix a place where the outside cold
will keep them till we get a wagonload. We can take them up maybe
once a week.”
“Winter is . . . ”
“Is going to be my last season in the Buskin.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Yes, you will. Or you’ll hear from Bullock. You
don’t have a choice. You have a partner.”
“God, deliver me from evil.”
“Are you less evil than me? You killed five
people.”
“Four,” he protested weakly.
“You think Sue is still alive? You’re splitting
hairs. Any way you look at it, you’re guilty of murder.
You’re a murderer so dumb about money he doesn’t have a
gersh to his name. So stupid he keeps getting tangled with Sues and
Gilberts. Mr. Shed, they only execute you once.”
How to argue with sociopathic reasoning? Lisa was the heart of
Lisa’s universe. Other people existed only to be
exploited.
“There are some others we should think about after
Gilbert. That man of Krage’s who got away. He knows there was
something strange about the bodies not turning up. He hasn’t
talked or it would be all over the Buskin. But someday he might.
And there’s the man you hired to help you with the
blackmailer.”
She sounded like a general planning a campaign. Planning murder
wholesale. How could anybody? . . .
“I want no more blood on my hands, Lisa.”
“How much choice do you have?”
He could not deny that Gilbert’s death had meaning in the
equation of his survival. And after Gilbert, one more. Before she
destroyed him. She would let her guard down sometime.
What about that letter? Damn. Maybe her father had to go
first . . . The trap was vast and had no
apparent exits.
“This could be my only chance to get out, Mr. Shed.
You’d better believe I’m going to grab it.”
Shed shook his lethargy, leaned forward, stared into the
fireplace. His own survival came first. Gilbert had to go. That was
definite.
What about the black castle? Had he told her about the amulet?
He could not recall. He had to imply the existence of a special
passkey, else she might try to kill and sell him. He would become a
danger to her once they implemented her plan. Yes. For sure. She
would try to rid herself of him once she made her connection with
the things in the castle. So add another to his must-kill list.
Damn. Raven had done the smart thing, the only thing possible.
Had taken the only exit. Leaving Juniper was the only way out.
“Going to have to follow him,” he muttered.
“There isn’t any choice.”
“What?”
“Just muttering, girl. You win. Let’s get to work on
Gilbert.”
“Good. Stay sober and get up early tomorrow. You’ll
need to watch the Lily while I check something out.”
“All right.”
“Time you pulled your own weight again, anyway.”
“Probably so.”
Lisa eyed him suspiciously. “Good night, Mr.
Shed.”
Lisa told Shed: “It’s set up. He’ll meet me at
my place tonight. Alone. You bring your wagon. I’ll make sure
my dad isn’t around.”
“I hear Gilbert won’t go anywhere without a
bodyguard now.”
“He will tonight. He’s supposed to pay me ten leva
to help get control of the Lily. I let him think he’s going
to get something else, too.”
Shed’s stomach growled. “What if he catches
on?”
“There’s two of us and one of him. How did such a
chicken-shit manage everything you have?”
He had dealt with the lesser fear. But he kept that thought to
himself. There was no point giving Lisa more handles than she had.
It was time to find handles on her. “Aren’t you scared
of anything, child?”
“Poverty. Especially of being old and poor. I get the grey
shakes whenever I see the Custodians haul some poor old stiff out
of an alley.”
“Yeah. That I can understand.” Shed smiled thinly.
That was a beginning.
Shed stopped the wagon, glanced at the window of a downstairs
rear apartment. No candle burning there. Lisa hadn’t yet
arrived. He snapped the traces, rolled on. Gilbert might have
scouts out. He was not stupid.
Shed pulled around a kink in the alleyway, strolled back
pretending to be a drunk. Before long someone lighted a candle in
the apartment. Heart hammering, Shed slunk to the rear door.
It was unlocked. As promised. Maybe Gilbert was stupid. Gently,
he eased inside. His stomach was a mess of knots. His hands shook.
A scream lay coiled in his throat.
This was not the Marron Shed who had fought Krage and his
troops. That Shed had been trapped and fighting for his life. He
had had no time to think himself into a panic. This Shed did. He
was convinced he would foul up.
The apartment consisted of two tiny rooms. The first, behind the
door, was dark and empty. Shed moved through carefully, eased to a
ragged curtain. A man murmured beyond the doorway. Shed peeked.
Gilbert had disrobed and was resting a knee on a bedraggled
excuse of a bed. Lisa was in it, covers pulled to her neck,
pretending second thoughts. Gilbert’s withered, wrinkled,
blue-veined old body contrasted bizarrely with her youth.
Gilbert was angry.
Shed cursed mutely. He wished Lisa would stop playing games.
Always she had to do more than go directly to her goal. She had to
manipulate along the way, just to satisfy something within herself.
He wanted to get it over.
Lisa pretended surrender, made room for Gilbert beside her.
The plan was for Shed to strike once Lisa enwrapped Gilbert in
arms and legs. He decided to play a game of his own. He let it
wait. He stood there grinning while her face betrayed her thoughts,
while Gilbert sated himself upon her.
Finally, Shed moved in.
Three quick, quiet steps. He looped a garotte around
Gilbert’s skinny neck, leaned back. Lisa tightened her grip.
How small and mortal the moneylender appeared. How unlike a man
feared by half the Buskin. Gilbert struggled, but could not escape.
Shed thought it would never end. He hadn’t realized it took
so long to strangle a man. Finally, he stepped back. His shakes
threatened to overcome him. “Get him off!” Lisa
squealed.
Shed rolled the corpse aside. “Get dressed. Come on.
Let’s get out of here. He might have some men hanging around.
I’ll get the wagon.” He swept to the door, peeped into
the alleyway. Nobody around. He recovered the wagon fast.
“Come on!” he snapped when he returned and found
Lisa still undressed. “Let’s get him out of
here.” She could not tear herself away. Shed shoved clothing
into her arms, slapped her bare behind. “Get moving, damn
it.”
She dressed slowly. Shed fluttered to the door, checked the
alley. Still no one around. He scooted back to the body, hustled it
to the wagon and covered it with a tarp. Funny how they seemed
lighter when they were dead.
Back inside: “Will you come on? I’ll drag you out
the way you are.”
The threat had no effect. Shed grabbed her hand, dragged her out
the door. “Up.” He hoisted her onto the seat, jumped up
himself.
He flicked the traces. The mules plodded forward. Once he
crossed the Port River bridge, they knew where they were headed and
needed little guidance. Idly, he wondered how many times they had
made the journey.
The wagon was halfway up the hill before he calmed down enough
to study Lisa. She seemed to be in shock. Suddenly, murder was not
just talk. She had helped kill. Her neck was in a noose. “Not
as easy as you thought, eh?”
“I didn’t know it would be like that. I was holding
him. I felt the life go out. It . . . It
wasn’t what I expected.”
“And you want to make a career of it. I’ll tell you
something. I’m not killing my customers. You want it done
that way, you do it yourself.”
She tried a feeble threat.
“You don’t have any power over me anymore. Go to the
Inquisitors. They’ll take you to a truth-sayer.
Partner.”
Lisa shivered. Shed held his tongue till they neared the black
castle. “Let’s not play games anymore.” He was
considering selling her along with Gilbert, but decided he could
not muster the hatred, anger or downright meanness to do it.
He stopped the mules. “You stay here. Don’t get off
the wagon no matter what. Understand?”
“Yes.” Lisa’s voice was small and distant.
Terrified, he thought.
He knocked on the black gate. It swung inward. He resumed his
seat and drove inside, stepped down, swung Gilbert onto a stone
slab. The tall creature came forth, examined the body, looked at
Lisa.
“Not this one,” Shed said. “She’s a new
partner.”
The creature nodded. “Thirty.”
“Done.”
“We need more bodies, Marron Shed. Many bodies. Our work
is nearing completion. We grow eager to finish.”
Shed shuddered at its tone. “There’ll be more
soon.”
“Good. Very good. You shall be rewarded richly.”
Shed shuddered again, looked around. The thing asked, “You
seek the woman? She has not yet become one with the portal.”
It snapped long, yellow fingers.
Feet scuffed in the darkness. Shadows came forth. They held the
arms of a naked Sue. Shed swallowed hard. She had been used badly.
She had lost weight, and her skin was colorless where not marked
with bruises or abrasions. One of the creatures raised her chin,
made her look at Shed. Her eyes were hollow and vacant. “The
walking dead,” he whispered.
“Is the revenge sweet enough?” the tall creature
asked.
“Take her away! I don’t want to see her.”
The tall being snapped its fingers. Its compatriots retreated into
the shadows. “My money!” Shed snarled.
Chuckling, the being counted coins at Gilbert’s feet. Shed
scooped them into his pocket. The being said. “Bring us more
live ones, Marron Shed. We have many uses for live ones.”
A scream echoed from the darkness. Shed thought he heard his
name called.
“She recognized you, friend.”
A whimper crawled out of Shed’s throat. He vaulted onto
the wagon seat, snarled at his mules.
The tall creature eyed Lisa with unmistakable meaning. Lisa read
it. “Let’s get out of here, Mr. Shed.
Please?”
“Git up, mules.” The wagon creaked and groaned and
seemed to take forever getting through the gate. Screams continued
echoing from somewhere deep inside the castle.
Outside, Lisa looked at Shed with a decidedly odd expression.
Shed thought he detected relief, fear, and a little loathing.
Relief seemed foremost. She sensed how vulnerable she had been.
Shed smiled enigmatically, nodded, and said nothing. Like Raven, he
recalled.
He grinned. Like Raven.
Let her think. Let her worry.
The mules halted. “Eh?”
Men materialized out of the darkness. They held naked weapons.
Military-type weapons.
A voice said, “I’ll be damned. It’s the
innkeeper.”
Shed sat up so suddenly his head twisted around. Somebody
started beating drums inside. He rolled to the edge of the bed and
was noisily sick. And then became sick in another way. With
terror.
“I told her. I told her the whole damned thing.” He
tried to jump up. He had to get out of Juniper before the
Inquisitors came. He had gold. A foreign captain might take him
south. He could catch up with Raven and
Asa . . . He settled onto the cot, too
miserable to act. “I’m dying,” he muttered.
“If there’s a hell, this is what it’s going to be
like.”
Had he told her? He thought so. And for nothing. He had gotten
nothing. “Marron Shed, you were born to lose. When will you
ever learn?”
He rose once more, cautiously, and fumbled through his hiding
place. The gold was there. Maybe he hadn’t told her
everything. He considered the amulet. Lisa could follow the trail
blazed by Sue. If she hadn’t told anybody yet. But she would
be wary, wouldn’t she? Be hard to catch her off guard. Even
assuming he could find her.
“My head! Gods! I can’t think.” There was a
sudden racket downstairs. “Damn,” he muttered.
“She left the place unlocked. They’ll steal
everything.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. Such an end he had
come to. Maybe that was Bullock and his thugs knocking around down
there.
Best to meet his fate. Cursing, he eased into his clothing,
began the long journey downstairs.
“Good morning, Mr. Shed,” Lisa called brightly.
“What will you have for breakfast?”
He stared, gulped, finally stumbled to a table, sat there with
his head in his hands, ignoring the amused stare of one of his
companions of the Gilbert adventure.
“A little hung over, Mr. Shed?” Lisa asked.
“Yes.” His own voice sounded thunderous.
“I’ll mix you something my father taught me to make.
He’s a master drunkard, you know.”
Shed nodded weakly. Even that proved painful. Lisa’s
father was one reason he had hired her. She needed all the help she
could get. Another of his charities gone sour.
She returned with something so foul even a sorcerer would not
have touched it. “Drink fast. It goes down easier that
way.”
“I can imagine.” Half praying it would poison him,
he gulped the malodorous concoction. After gasping for breath, he
murmured, “When are they coming? How long do I
have?”
“Who, Mr. Shed?”
“The Inquisitors. The law. Whoever you called.”
“Why would they come here?”
Painfully, he raised his gaze to meet hers.
She whispered, “I told you I’ll do anything to get
out of the Buskin. This is the chance I’ve been looking for.
We’re partners now, Mr. Shed. Fifty-fifty.”
Shed buried his head in his hands and groaned. It would never
end. Not till it devoured him. He cast curses on Raven and all his
house.
The common room was empty. The door was closed. “First we
have to take care of Gilbert,” Lisa said.
Shed bobbed his head, refused to look up.
“That was stupid, giving him jewelry he would recognize.
He’ll kill you if we don’t kill him first.”
Again Shed bobbed his head. Why me? he whined to himself. What
have I done to deserve this?
“And don’t you think you can get rid of me the way
you did Sue and that blackmailer. My father has a letter
he’ll take to Bullock if I disappear.”
“You’re too smart for your own good.” And:
“It won’t be long till winter.”
“Yes. But we won’t do it Raven’s way. Too
risky and too much work. We’ll get charitable. Let all the
derelicts in. One or two can disappear every night.”
“You’re talking murder!”
“Who’ll care? Nobody. They’ll be better off
themselves. Call it mercy.”
“How can anybody so young be so heartless?”
“You don’t prosper in the Buskin if you have a
heart, Mr. Shed. We’ll fix a place where the outside cold
will keep them till we get a wagonload. We can take them up maybe
once a week.”
“Winter is . . . ”
“Is going to be my last season in the Buskin.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Yes, you will. Or you’ll hear from Bullock. You
don’t have a choice. You have a partner.”
“God, deliver me from evil.”
“Are you less evil than me? You killed five
people.”
“Four,” he protested weakly.
“You think Sue is still alive? You’re splitting
hairs. Any way you look at it, you’re guilty of murder.
You’re a murderer so dumb about money he doesn’t have a
gersh to his name. So stupid he keeps getting tangled with Sues and
Gilberts. Mr. Shed, they only execute you once.”
How to argue with sociopathic reasoning? Lisa was the heart of
Lisa’s universe. Other people existed only to be
exploited.
“There are some others we should think about after
Gilbert. That man of Krage’s who got away. He knows there was
something strange about the bodies not turning up. He hasn’t
talked or it would be all over the Buskin. But someday he might.
And there’s the man you hired to help you with the
blackmailer.”
She sounded like a general planning a campaign. Planning murder
wholesale. How could anybody? . . .
“I want no more blood on my hands, Lisa.”
“How much choice do you have?”
He could not deny that Gilbert’s death had meaning in the
equation of his survival. And after Gilbert, one more. Before she
destroyed him. She would let her guard down sometime.
What about that letter? Damn. Maybe her father had to go
first . . . The trap was vast and had no
apparent exits.
“This could be my only chance to get out, Mr. Shed.
You’d better believe I’m going to grab it.”
Shed shook his lethargy, leaned forward, stared into the
fireplace. His own survival came first. Gilbert had to go. That was
definite.
What about the black castle? Had he told her about the amulet?
He could not recall. He had to imply the existence of a special
passkey, else she might try to kill and sell him. He would become a
danger to her once they implemented her plan. Yes. For sure. She
would try to rid herself of him once she made her connection with
the things in the castle. So add another to his must-kill list.
Damn. Raven had done the smart thing, the only thing possible.
Had taken the only exit. Leaving Juniper was the only way out.
“Going to have to follow him,” he muttered.
“There isn’t any choice.”
“What?”
“Just muttering, girl. You win. Let’s get to work on
Gilbert.”
“Good. Stay sober and get up early tomorrow. You’ll
need to watch the Lily while I check something out.”
“All right.”
“Time you pulled your own weight again, anyway.”
“Probably so.”
Lisa eyed him suspiciously. “Good night, Mr.
Shed.”
Lisa told Shed: “It’s set up. He’ll meet me at
my place tonight. Alone. You bring your wagon. I’ll make sure
my dad isn’t around.”
“I hear Gilbert won’t go anywhere without a
bodyguard now.”
“He will tonight. He’s supposed to pay me ten leva
to help get control of the Lily. I let him think he’s going
to get something else, too.”
Shed’s stomach growled. “What if he catches
on?”
“There’s two of us and one of him. How did such a
chicken-shit manage everything you have?”
He had dealt with the lesser fear. But he kept that thought to
himself. There was no point giving Lisa more handles than she had.
It was time to find handles on her. “Aren’t you scared
of anything, child?”
“Poverty. Especially of being old and poor. I get the grey
shakes whenever I see the Custodians haul some poor old stiff out
of an alley.”
“Yeah. That I can understand.” Shed smiled thinly.
That was a beginning.
Shed stopped the wagon, glanced at the window of a downstairs
rear apartment. No candle burning there. Lisa hadn’t yet
arrived. He snapped the traces, rolled on. Gilbert might have
scouts out. He was not stupid.
Shed pulled around a kink in the alleyway, strolled back
pretending to be a drunk. Before long someone lighted a candle in
the apartment. Heart hammering, Shed slunk to the rear door.
It was unlocked. As promised. Maybe Gilbert was stupid. Gently,
he eased inside. His stomach was a mess of knots. His hands shook.
A scream lay coiled in his throat.
This was not the Marron Shed who had fought Krage and his
troops. That Shed had been trapped and fighting for his life. He
had had no time to think himself into a panic. This Shed did. He
was convinced he would foul up.
The apartment consisted of two tiny rooms. The first, behind the
door, was dark and empty. Shed moved through carefully, eased to a
ragged curtain. A man murmured beyond the doorway. Shed peeked.
Gilbert had disrobed and was resting a knee on a bedraggled
excuse of a bed. Lisa was in it, covers pulled to her neck,
pretending second thoughts. Gilbert’s withered, wrinkled,
blue-veined old body contrasted bizarrely with her youth.
Gilbert was angry.
Shed cursed mutely. He wished Lisa would stop playing games.
Always she had to do more than go directly to her goal. She had to
manipulate along the way, just to satisfy something within herself.
He wanted to get it over.
Lisa pretended surrender, made room for Gilbert beside her.
The plan was for Shed to strike once Lisa enwrapped Gilbert in
arms and legs. He decided to play a game of his own. He let it
wait. He stood there grinning while her face betrayed her thoughts,
while Gilbert sated himself upon her.
Finally, Shed moved in.
Three quick, quiet steps. He looped a garotte around
Gilbert’s skinny neck, leaned back. Lisa tightened her grip.
How small and mortal the moneylender appeared. How unlike a man
feared by half the Buskin. Gilbert struggled, but could not escape.
Shed thought it would never end. He hadn’t realized it took
so long to strangle a man. Finally, he stepped back. His shakes
threatened to overcome him. “Get him off!” Lisa
squealed.
Shed rolled the corpse aside. “Get dressed. Come on.
Let’s get out of here. He might have some men hanging around.
I’ll get the wagon.” He swept to the door, peeped into
the alleyway. Nobody around. He recovered the wagon fast.
“Come on!” he snapped when he returned and found
Lisa still undressed. “Let’s get him out of
here.” She could not tear herself away. Shed shoved clothing
into her arms, slapped her bare behind. “Get moving, damn
it.”
She dressed slowly. Shed fluttered to the door, checked the
alley. Still no one around. He scooted back to the body, hustled it
to the wagon and covered it with a tarp. Funny how they seemed
lighter when they were dead.
Back inside: “Will you come on? I’ll drag you out
the way you are.”
The threat had no effect. Shed grabbed her hand, dragged her out
the door. “Up.” He hoisted her onto the seat, jumped up
himself.
He flicked the traces. The mules plodded forward. Once he
crossed the Port River bridge, they knew where they were headed and
needed little guidance. Idly, he wondered how many times they had
made the journey.
The wagon was halfway up the hill before he calmed down enough
to study Lisa. She seemed to be in shock. Suddenly, murder was not
just talk. She had helped kill. Her neck was in a noose. “Not
as easy as you thought, eh?”
“I didn’t know it would be like that. I was holding
him. I felt the life go out. It . . . It
wasn’t what I expected.”
“And you want to make a career of it. I’ll tell you
something. I’m not killing my customers. You want it done
that way, you do it yourself.”
She tried a feeble threat.
“You don’t have any power over me anymore. Go to the
Inquisitors. They’ll take you to a truth-sayer.
Partner.”
Lisa shivered. Shed held his tongue till they neared the black
castle. “Let’s not play games anymore.” He was
considering selling her along with Gilbert, but decided he could
not muster the hatred, anger or downright meanness to do it.
He stopped the mules. “You stay here. Don’t get off
the wagon no matter what. Understand?”
“Yes.” Lisa’s voice was small and distant.
Terrified, he thought.
He knocked on the black gate. It swung inward. He resumed his
seat and drove inside, stepped down, swung Gilbert onto a stone
slab. The tall creature came forth, examined the body, looked at
Lisa.
“Not this one,” Shed said. “She’s a new
partner.”
The creature nodded. “Thirty.”
“Done.”
“We need more bodies, Marron Shed. Many bodies. Our work
is nearing completion. We grow eager to finish.”
Shed shuddered at its tone. “There’ll be more
soon.”
“Good. Very good. You shall be rewarded richly.”
Shed shuddered again, looked around. The thing asked, “You
seek the woman? She has not yet become one with the portal.”
It snapped long, yellow fingers.
Feet scuffed in the darkness. Shadows came forth. They held the
arms of a naked Sue. Shed swallowed hard. She had been used badly.
She had lost weight, and her skin was colorless where not marked
with bruises or abrasions. One of the creatures raised her chin,
made her look at Shed. Her eyes were hollow and vacant. “The
walking dead,” he whispered.
“Is the revenge sweet enough?” the tall creature
asked.
“Take her away! I don’t want to see her.”
The tall being snapped its fingers. Its compatriots retreated into
the shadows. “My money!” Shed snarled.
Chuckling, the being counted coins at Gilbert’s feet. Shed
scooped them into his pocket. The being said. “Bring us more
live ones, Marron Shed. We have many uses for live ones.”
A scream echoed from the darkness. Shed thought he heard his
name called.
“She recognized you, friend.”
A whimper crawled out of Shed’s throat. He vaulted onto
the wagon seat, snarled at his mules.
The tall creature eyed Lisa with unmistakable meaning. Lisa read
it. “Let’s get out of here, Mr. Shed.
Please?”
“Git up, mules.” The wagon creaked and groaned and
seemed to take forever getting through the gate. Screams continued
echoing from somewhere deep inside the castle.
Outside, Lisa looked at Shed with a decidedly odd expression.
Shed thought he detected relief, fear, and a little loathing.
Relief seemed foremost. She sensed how vulnerable she had been.
Shed smiled enigmatically, nodded, and said nothing. Like Raven, he
recalled.
He grinned. Like Raven.
Let her think. Let her worry.
The mules halted. “Eh?”
Men materialized out of the darkness. They held naked weapons.
Military-type weapons.
A voice said, “I’ll be damned. It’s the
innkeeper.”