"I'm still really sorry about what I did.” He hadn't been pretending with the two chickaderos, not one bit.
"Let's not talk about that,” she said. “I don't like it, but it's none of my business—unless you're saying you want to be my boyfriend. Do you?"
"Umm...” Of course I do, he thought, but there are so many things in the way, like saving the world. “I don't want to hurt you, but, uh, I like you a lot, and I'd like to think you still like me, even after all the dumb things I did. Yeah, I do, if you want me to."
"Of course I do, silly!” Nalia threw her arms around him and planted a big kiss on the tip of his nose. He responded in kind, longing to kiss her the way he'd kissed the chickaderos, but suspecting the time wasn't yet right. She pushed him over again, and this time he pulled her down with him. Laughing, they swam back slowly. Together.
"Everything patched up between you two?” Jape asked, as Scrornuck and Nalia toweled off and dropped into a comfortable chair for two.
"Getting there,” Scrornuck said.
"Good.” Jape looked nervously at Nalia. “What about between us?"
"I've decided to pretend last night didn't happen,” she said. “At least the parts that involved me getting friendly with Tremmlowe. When he held my hand, I wished I was wearing a rubber glove.” She looked Jape in the eye and smiled a sly smile. “And I've also decided to believe you're giving me five gold pieces a day, retroactive to last Saturday night, because I'm such a great guide."
Scrornuck grinned, impressed by Nalia's chutzpah and amused by Jape's stunned reaction; for a moment the Ranger simply stared, his mouth hanging open. Then he collected himself, reached for his purse, and said, “Of course. Five gold pieces a day, from the beginning. Of course."
* * * *
"If nobody minds,” Scrornuck said, taking out his prayer book, “I'd like to offer a proper blessing before our dinner arrives."
After spending several hours in the suite, where Scrornuck napped while Jape and Nalia performed mind-reading experiments, they'd returned to Syb's Tavern in search of clues and a meal.
"As long as you don't stand on the table and shout it,” Jape said, pointing to a Mayoral Guard who quietly strolled through the tavern, gave them a suspicious look, and left. “We're being watched."
Scrornuck chose a short but meaningful passage, and recited it softly—in Gaelic, just to be on the safe side. “Hey, what's this?” he said as he went to put the book back in his sporran. He dumped the sporran's contents onto the table. “Sheeyit, I forgot all about this stuff!” He pointed to the cable-tie. “First guy tried to strangle me with this.” Next, the Residence Pass. “Found this on the guy with the poisoned sword.” Last, a pouch full of small white pills. “And our friend Slimeball had these."
Jape immediately picked up one of the pills. “Tremmlowe had drugs? That's a whole new can of worms. Let's see if we can find out what it is and what it does.” He touched the pill to one of his rings, and a moment later the softscroll made a quiet chime and displayed a small message. “Looks like we'll have to wait.” He took a napkin and carefully cleaned the ring's jewel. “In the meantime, let's see what residues we can find. Nalia, would you please put a little spit on this ring?"
"Spit?"
"A blood test would be better,” Jape said, “but we're in public."
With a shrug, she touched her tongue to the jewel. A moment later, the scroll beeped softly and Jape carefully cleaned the ring. “Your turn, Mister Saughblade.” Scrornuck deposited some spit, probably more than Jape really wanted. After the scroll beeped a second time, Jape repeated the ritual with his own saliva. “Would you look at that!” he said, reading the results.
"It found something in me, right?” Scrornuck said. “I told you I got stuck with a poisoned sword."
"A Class III neurotoxin,” Jape said. “The sedative-gone-bad that we found on those darts at the Executive Palace, which suggests your alleged assassins are connected with the soldiers we met there. Nasty: two drops are enough to kill."
"Good thing he only got one chance,” Scrornuck said.
Jape nodded. “Annoying as you can be, I'd miss you. What's next? Looks like I got a sedative, an alkaloid that knocks you out for a while, mixes well with alcohol, but leaves you with a hell of a hangover. I can vouch for the last part."
"Mixes with alcohol,” Scrornuck mused, and suddenly pieces of the puzzle started clicking together. “Wait here.” He got up and ducked into the bar's kitchen. As the dishwasher watched, amused, he found a used beer mug, about half-full of Batatat's Stout, warm and sticky with a congealed brown head. “Perfect,” he whispered.
"Ugh,” Jape said when Scrornuck returned, “that stuff's nasty enough when it's fresh! What gives?"
"Last night I found you here, with a half-empty mug of Batatat's. Your taste in beer sucks, so it couldn't have been yours."
Jape nodded. “Tremmlowe proposed a toast when the girls took you upstairs. My glass was empty, so I took yours. It smelled bad and tasted worse."
"And this from a guy who drinks coffee? Yeah, it was nasty—when I sniffed it later on, I almost puked again. I thought it was just warm and stale, but...” Scrornuck cautiously sniffed the dirty mug. It smelled like beer, warm and stale, but beer nonetheless, with no hint of the foul odor he'd detected in Jape's half-finished pint. “Take a whiff."
In the even-more-cautious manner of a chemistry student, Jape waved his hand over the top of the mug, fanning its scent toward his nose. “Still smells like sludge, but I see what you mean—this one doesn't have the chemical stink."
"So there's the plot,” Scrornuck said. “They slip me a Mickey, the girls take me upstairs, and once I'm out, the assassins kill me quietly.” He shoved the stale beer aside. “Shit! I should have seen it coming!” He sighed. “What did I do to deserve such attention?"
"What didn't you do?” Jape said. “You've kept the Servants from the sacrifice they want, and you beat the crap out of them when they tried to take it from you."
"They'd kill me just to get my boots?"
"No, they wouldn't,” Nalia objected. “Rosaiah said the sacrifice had to be voluntary, and nobody would disobey the High Priest. If he doesn't approve your offering, it doesn't count."
Jape again stared at the little white pill. “I suspect the ultimate reason for the plot has something to do with this stuff. Nalia, the instrument found traces of this drug in your saliva, so it appears Tremmlowe slipped you one of these. I wonder where he got it. I haven't seen any drugstores in Taupeaquaah."
"Medicines are a Gift of Spafu,” she said, “so there's an apothecary at the Temple. But only the Temple Healers are allowed to use it."
"What about the Guards?” Scrornuck asked.
"Probably not officially, but I imagine the Healers would get it for them if they asked."
"Uh-huh,” Jape said, turning the pill over in his hand.
"Let me see that a second,” Nalia said. Jape handed her the pill, and she inspected it closely. “Four years ago, when I was learning to handle a sword, I got a cut on my arm. It was bad enough to need stitches.” She pointed to a barely detectable scar on her right arm. “They gave me a pill that looked like this, and next thing I knew, the cut was all sewn up. I never felt a thing."
"An anesthetic? Interesting.” Jape consulted the softscroll, but no new messages had arrived. “I guess we'll just have to wait to learn the details. Meanwhile, what about these other things?” He turned his attention to the cable-tie. “Looks like something you'd find on a construction site.” He zipped the plastic strap through the catch. “But Taupeaquaah's been finished for a century..."
"Guards carry these things,” Nalia said. “I saw a big bar fight a couple months ago, and the Guards tied people's hands together with these before they marched them off to jail."
"And Tremmlowe's lackey figured out they made good strangle-cords,” Scrornuck said. “Son of a bitch—"
"Was he a Guard?” Jape asked.
Scrornuck shook
his head. “Don't think so—he looked like one of those lizard-lovers I beat up the other night. And he was carrying my souvenir knife—"
"The other guy was a Guard,” Nalia interrupted, holding up the Residence Pass. “And not just any Guard. This Pass is for the Mayor's Personal Guard Barracks. That's about as high-ranking as you can get—they report to the Captain of the Guard herself."
"Captain of the Guard?” Scrornuck said. “That's interesting; the soldiers we met at the Executive palace called their leader ‘Captain'."
"Wasn't their Captain a man?"
"With the armor and the mask, I couldn't tell."
"You did remark about the ‘bitch’ getting away,” Jape said. “Maybe you felt something."
"Maybe. Wish we'd gotten a look under that mask."
"So do I,” Jape said. “So, we have one high-ranking Guard and one Servant. What about the third assassin?"
"Tremmlowe's bodyguard,” Scrornuck replied, and again something made the hairs on his neck stand up when he said those two words together. “Tremmlowe's bodyguard,” he muttered. “Tremmlowe's bodyguard?” He jumped up and practically shouted. “Tremmlowe's bodyguard! Of course!"
"Shhh! Mister Saughblade!” Jape whispered urgently. “We're in a public place!"
Scrornuck looked around and saw several patrons staring. “Sorry."
"Now,” Jape said softly, “What about Tremmlowe's bodyguard?"
"He had one! Who else in Taupeaquaah has a bodyguard?"
Nalia thought. “Well, there's Jape, and there's Tremmlowe, and—"
"And that's all. A week ago you didn't even know what a bodyguard was. But the slimeball had one. And he recognized right from the start that Jape had one, too."
Jape nodded. “It seems there's more to Mister Tremmlowe than meets the eye. He's got a bodyguard in a town where most people don't even know what the word means, he can hire assassins from the highest ranks of the Mayoral Guards, and he can get his hands on poison and drugs. Speaking of which...” He checked the softscroll again, and again found no new information. “Damn! I wonder what he was using that stuff for."
"We can wonder while we're eating,” Scrornuck said as a serving wench arrived with an immense platter. “Dinner's here!"
They were well into the desserts when a soft beep from the scroll announced the answer to their query. Jape summarized the message. “It's called Versenex (trademark): hypnotic-sedative, used for minor procedures like stitching up wounds or setting bones. It puts you in a trance—for an hour or two you don't feel most kinds of pain, you're quiet and obedient to anyone who gives you an order, and when it wears off you feel great and don't remember anything."
"So that's why I don't remember touching the Orb?” Nalia asked.
"Tremmlowe gave you Versenex and you don't remember last night,” Jape said. “By itself, that doesn't prove anything. But I now believe you interacted with the Orb. The evidence was right in front of our noses. This morning, when the two ladies showed up, you launched a thought that everybody in the place heard. Remember?"
"Yeah—I told the blonde to get her empty little head out of here while it was still attached. She yanked her hand back so fast I thought she was going to tear a tendon."
Jape gazed intently into Nalia's eyes. “Do you think you could have done that yesterday?"
"Uh, maybe. I mean, I was really angry at them. Maybe that made the thought stronger."
"I don't think so. No matter how mad you were, you didn't have the ability two days ago.” Jape pointed to the blue ring, whose jewel had flickered dimly on Thursday. It now glowed a cool, steady blue. “The instrument says you've gotten stronger. So do the tests we did today."
"And you think the Orb did that?"
Jape nodded. “A week ago you could dodge punches before they were thrown. We took you to the Executive Palace, where Mister Saughblade says you touched the Orb. This week you could pick up specific thoughts from me. This morning you launched a thought that stopped Blondie cold in her tracks, right after Mister Saughblade says you touched the Orb again. If that's the case, the Orb somehow amplifies your talent."
"But why don't I remember touching it?"
"I told you,” Scrornuck said. “Everybody goes into a trance when you touch that thing. They just sit and stare like time was stopped."
"Everybody but you,” she said. “Why? What makes you so special?"
Scrornuck shrugged. “Beats me. Jape?"
Jape also shrugged. “I have no explanation. But given the physical evidence, I'm going to accept your story at face value: something strange happens when you interact with the Orb, Nalia, and it affects everybody except you, Mister Saughblade. In time, we'll find out why. Right now, we've got another puzzle."
"Yeah,” Nalia said. “How did Tremmlowe get his hands on the Orb, and why did he want me to touch it?"
Jape nodded. “That's the mystery. I suspect Tremmlowe's just an employee. As for why Lord Draggott wants you to interact with the Orb...” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps he knows it makes you a stronger telepath, and for some reason he wants that. Or maybe the Orb gets stronger when it interacts with you—this instrument indicates some strengthening.” He pointed to the purple ring, which glowed a little brighter. “Wish I could find the thing..."
"It was upstairs just last night,” Scrornuck said. “I still can't figure out how it disappeared.” With a frustrated sigh, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the tavern's ceiling. The rough planks squeaked as somebody upstairs moved, and for an instant light shone through the crack between two of them. The crack? He jumped up and walked to the foot of the stairs, then back as if walking the upstairs hall, turned left, took two more steps and looked up. “Eureka!"
"Well, look at that.” Jape looked at the thick brown gunk oozing from the crack between two boards, and handed Scrornuck a spoon. “Want to get a sample?"
"You bet your sweet ass.” Scrornuck scraped up a little of the gunk, aware that people were again staring, and waited impatiently as Jape touched it to his analyzer ring.
"Blood,” Jape said. “Human, sixteen hours old—that would make it about two in the morning. Somebody bled a lot to make a mess this big.” He tucked the softscroll into his cape and held one hand directly beneath the stain. “Got the position. All right, let's see what's up there."
They found clean floors in both of the rooms they searched. “Odd,” Jape said, staring alternately at the softscroll and the garish curtains that lined the upstairs hallway. “The locator says the bloodstain is directly behind this wall..."
"Maybe it's time for the direct approach.” Scrornuck shoved the curtain aside, planning to cut a hole through the flimsy wood—and found another door hidden behind the curtain. “Sheeyit! We fell for a trick that simple?"
Though there were no signs of bodies, a huge brown stain covered much of the room's floor. On the nightstand sat the dragon-head brooch that had secured Scrornuck's plaid to his shirt. He dropped it into his sporran, happy to have it back.
"One piece of evidence,” Jape said. “Let's see if we can find another.” They found another hidden room behind the curtains at the end of the hall. There was no basket and no sign of the Orb, but the floor was scorched and a faint aroma of smoke hung in the air. “Time to ask if the employees saw anything,” Jape said.
Scrornuck clenched a fist. “I'll be happy to help them remember."
Several of Jape's silver pieces and a little of Scrornuck's gentle persuasion helped the employees recall that a large contingent of Mayoral Guards had arrived about mid-morning, sealed off the upstairs for a while, then left, equipped for a long journey. They carried several large objects, one of which sizzled ominously.
"So the Orb is gone,” Jape said, as they returned to the table. “But where?” He tapped the softscroll distractedly, staring at the map he'd been working on since they arrived. “Tremmlowe works for Draggott. Guards took the Orb. Long journey...” His voice faded away as he gazed at the map.
&n
bsp; "What's he doing?” Nalia whispered.
"Thinking. He's got a puzzle, and he'll be in his own world till he solves it.” Scrornuck signaled the serving wench. “No telling how long he'll take. We might as well have a drink."
Jape took just long enough for Scrornuck to put away a pint and a half of Batatat's. “Here,” he said suddenly, to nobody in particular, as his index finger dropped onto the ragged mark labeled Alpine Lake.
"Okay. When do we leave?” After three years spent following Jape's hunches and deductions, Scrornuck needed no explanation. If Jape said the Orb was at Alpine Lake, it wouldn't dare be anywhere else.
Nalia was more skeptical. “That looks a two-day walk, to a place nobody's ever heard of. How do you know there's anything there?"
"Logic,” Jape said. “Logic and a process of elimination. The name McGinn is associated with the Orb—probably a UniFlag bigwig who used the Executive Palace as a private get-away. When we found the Orb there, Lord Draggott's soldiers were taking it away. Where?"
Scrornuck pointed at the ceiling. “Here, eventually."
"Uh-huh. But this can't be its permanent home. Between the Captain, Tremmlowe, and the Guards who work for him, Draggott must have a pretty sophisticated organization. He has to have a headquarters somewhere. It can't be here in Taupeaquaah, because somebody we talked with over the last few nights would have recognized his name."
"Besides,” Scrornuck said, “if he had a headquarters in town, he wouldn't be stashing the thing in a whorehouse."
Jape nodded. “He'd find someplace more secure. We explored the Executive Palace pretty thoroughly—no sign of a headquarters, and the place was falling apart. So Draggott's headquarters isn't here, and it isn't at the Palace, so what's left?"
"Someplace else we haven't heard of?” Nalia said. “After all, we didn't know there was an Alpine Lake until a few days ago."
"True—but there's more.” Jape's tone bordered on smug. “Remember that crate we found at the Palace? It was used for shipping the Orb, and the label said it came from an office at the Alpine Lake Winter Sports Complex.” He smiled like a cat full of fresh canaries. “Here's what I'm thinking: Draggott's an innovator, an out of the box thinker, and he got the idea of setting up a crime syndicate. For this, he needed a headquarters outside Taupeaquaah, which he found when he stumbled onto the winter sports complex. Now, trust me on this: I worked for years in an office, and they're full of documents. I bet the offices at Alpine Lake are knee-deep in papers. So, Draggott found some papers that mentioned the Orb, he got curious and sent his soldiers to fetch it. They arrived just in time to run into us."
The Last Protector Page 20