“Nothing. It’s just my cart.”
He was afraid she was going to share the rest of what he had told her but she kept quiet. The last thing he needed was for Monty to get nervous and for Lady Sofia to come unglued. For now the idea of throwing the body down to the trolls was off the table, at least until everyone went to bed.
“Well, maybe you need to park your cart somewhere else,” Isabel said.
Digger nodded. “I will. I’m taking the cart with me and I’m going to find Hellard. He wouldn’t just abandon the trolls here and take off. I’ll get this sorted out.”
He took his brother aside. Lady Sofia lingered but then began to inspect a few of the loose floorboards where the nailheads were no longer flush.
“Look, Monty, I know the bar is your passion. I’m doing my best to stay out of your way. But things are getting dicey out on the streets. The purebloods who were in here tonight aren’t the kind of clients you want. They may have money but they’ll bring trouble. The curfew’s off. Why not advertise to fel? Keep it low-key?”
“Sofia has bills to pay. And stop thinking about my customers as just pureblood. Everyone’s welcome at the Dragon and Rose.”
“Save it for the sign. You weren’t even ready to serve anyone last night and now you’re hosting parties.”
Monty patted a pocket that jingled with coins. “They pay coin, not scrip. They like what I’m cooking.”
“You have trolls in the cellar. The people who are finding this place are looking for more than just a fancy meal and a tankard of ale. The sheriff hasn’t forgotten about us and he knows where we are. If you can’t stop serving the purebloods, how about waiting for a week or two? Let the city settle down. Once it does, then you can make this place into the best joint on the island. But you don’t know what’s going on outside. It’s getting dangerous.”
“I know you’re trying to scare me, Digger. I’m aware of the risks. But you didn’t see their faces when I brought out my cardamom goat skewers. We’ve got diners who are going to tell their friends. I close up, they forget about us. I can’t do that. And thanks for getting that board off the front door. This place doesn’t have to be a dive.”
“That’s the charm of it right now.”
“Now you’re just being rude.”
His brother began cleaning up. Digger fastened the bar on the front door and headed towards the rear exit.
“Lock up after I leave.”
Isabel hurried to catch up. “Where are you going?”
“The theater where Hellard went.”
“Then I’m coming too. I want those monsters out of that basement as bad as you do. Let’s go find that ogre.”
He lingered with his cart as he waited across the street. Isabel had gone down into her cellar without explanation, telling him she’d only be a minute. The few people he saw avoided him. He kept his ears open for the telltale clomp of guards’ boots. If he heard them he would head the opposite direction.
Finally Isabel appeared.
“Anything Hellard was up to I need to know about?” Digger asked.
“No. He was bugging me about my money. The theater isn’t far from here.”
She moved quickly as she led him through the Temperance District. They came across more and more people out as a few local bars were still serving customers. Some of the patrons on the streets had masks on.
“What’s with the disguises?” Digger asked her.
“A new trend at some of the high-end joints at the waterfront which is now trickling down to the other establishments. You haven’t seen the masks yet?”
“I haven’t made it to that part of town lately.”
“Not a lot of murders down there. You should check it out. There’s casinos with catacomb themes, servers dressed as fel fighters, even clubs with ‘experiences’ meant to frighten and amuse without the risk of getting your brain bashed in.”
“This isn’t going to last when word gets out about real murders in the streets.”
“I’d be careful about being too certain how nobles will react to anything.”
They approached the old theater. The double doors were shut and the place appeared dark, but bright lights were burning behind the establishment. A lone guard stood out front and was watching the two of them as Digger parked the cart on the opposite side of the street.
Before Digger could stop her, Isabel crossed the avenue. He followed right behind her.
“This the place that’s hiring monsters?” she asked the guard.
“That depends on who’s applying. Show’s done for the night. Come back tomorrow at noon for auditions.”
Digger looked up at the weathered sign hanging above them. The Palace. “What’s the pay?”
“Depends on what you have to offer. Like I said, come tomorrow.”
“Looks like there’s a party going on now.”
The guard squinted at them and made a face. “Purebloods only. Besides, it’s over.”
“Too bad. Heard you had an ogre show up here today. Thought something exciting might be going on.”
“Like I said, come back—”
Digger drove his fist into the man’s stomach. The guard gasped and doubled over as Digger smashed down with an elbow. He grabbed the man and shoved him against the door. It was locked.
“What are you doing?” Isabel hissed.
“You’re checking him for keys.”
She found three large keys on a ring. “This is hardly subtle.”
The door unlocked and she opened it. Digger pushed the guard inside and they entered a dim lobby with only a single lamp on a side counter burning. Threadbare drapery hung over a doorway leading to an auditorium with benches. A high stage with a curtain drawn across it was lit with candles.
Digger deposited the guard behind a bench and they approached the stage. Sounds of raucous voices could be heard from the party out back. A bent-double woman was sweeping up and a pair of fel were limping down the stairs from the rear of the theater.
One of them sporting a thick black row of hair stiffened when he saw Digger and openly stared. The fel was battered, with a black eye and a split lip. “I recognize you.”
Digger stared him down until the fel glanced away. “I don’t think you do. Were you here for whatever show they’re putting on?”
“They had us here for the stage show. We were fighting.”
“Who else is still back there?”
“No one. One of us left already.” His eyes shifted. “The purebloods are having a party, that’s all.”
His companion gave him a nudge. “Let’s go.”
Digger held up a hand. “Wait. An ogre came here earlier. I can see in your face you know who I’m talking about.”
“We were paid,” the one with the fancy hair said. “I just want to leave.”
“Paid what? By who?”
From the front of the house someone shouted, “Hey, Tad, you can’t leave the front door—” A man entered the auditorium and paused as he looked down at the unconscious guard.
“Hey! We’re being robbed! Everyone get out here now!”
Chapter Seventeen
FOOTSTEPS CAME FROM behind the walls and backstage. Another man appeared at the entrance. The two fel forgot their apparent injuries and fled past Digger and Isabel and no one stopped them. The woman who was sweeping retreated to a corner, her broom in hand.
“I don’t want trouble,” Digger said. “I’m looking for an ogre. Tell me where he went and we leave. It’s that simple.”
A man with a round hat pushed through the curtain with a few men behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Like I was telling your associate, we’re looking for an ogre. He came here last night.”
A thug at the back of the auditorium was helping the guard up onto a bench. “These two forced their way in and knocked out Tad.”
“Did they now?” the man with the hat asked.
Digger tried to sound as calm as possible. “Your guard got touchy with me.
Tell me about the ogre. I don’t think you could have missed him.”
“Why yes, we had an ogre attend the night’s entertainment. He won our little sparring match onstage and took home a purse. Perhaps he’ll come back another night and fight again. We have shows on Wednesdays and Fridays and Saturdays, if we can get the talent. But you look familiar. Do I know you?”
“So no ogre.”
The man spread his hands as if Digger suspected he might be cheating at cards. “Show’s over. Maybe he’ll return.”
Isabel began to back towards the door. “We’re sorry for barging in.”
“Wait. I know I’ve seen you. Both of you.” He was waving a finger as he remembered. “An acquaintance of mine pointed you out a few weeks back outside the catacombs ceremony. You’re the fel who beat the games, aren’t you? Hard to mistake a big strapper like you.”
“We’ll be leaving now,” Digger said.
The man sat on the stage and dropped down to the floor. “What luck to have you walk in here. Why yes, we had your ogre friend, and I thought that was a special treat. It pales at the thought of you coming to my humble theater and helping me put on a show. We pay coin.”
His men were descending a small set of stairs.
“Not interested.”
“You haven’t heard my offer.”
“I wasn’t in those games for fun. Find someone who wants to fight.”
“A hundred coin, just for showing up. You wouldn’t even have to fight. Join me onstage to introduce the game this Friday. Or Saturday, if you’re busy. Imagine that, the champion of the catacombs, here in my humble theater. This offer’s also open to you, madam. After all, wasn’t it you who took all the queen’s prizes and has been selling them at a loss to make coin?”
Isabel studied the man for a moment. “You’re Red Eye.”
Red Eye gave a sweeping bow. “I realize my reputation is fearsome throughout Diregloom, but this playhouse is my passion. A hundred coins for each of you. No fighting. Just to step up here and address the crowd and whet their appetites for my show.”
Digger didn’t feel like repeating himself so he turned to leave.
Two guards blocked his way. “Boss isn’t done talking,” one said.
“I’m done listening. Move or lose something.”
“Hey!” Red Eye called. “We’re still negotiating. There must be something I can do for you. Something you want that I can get.”
Digger shoved the guard aside and strode past.
Isabel followed and paused to look down at the dazed man on the bench. “Sorry about that.”
They headed through the lobby and out the front door. He expected at any moment Red Eye would signal his guards to try to stop him. But the gangster and his men didn’t follow.
“That’s a lot of coin for little work,” Isabel said.
“Only if you live to spend it. I’m sure there was a catch. There always is with men like him. And we still don’t know where Hellard is.”
“Hellard surely made an impression. Let’s ask some of the patrons, if we can find any.”
As they began to cross the street, Digger froze. Someone was hovering over the cart. By the tunic and metal helmet, Digger instantly recognized him as part of the city watch. The cop was craning his neck and examining the wrapped body. He then reached in as if to pull away the tarp.
Digger hurried towards him. “Hey! Excuse me, sir!”
When the man looked up his eyes went wide. He stepped back from the cart and fumbled for his sword. His cape got in the way and he almost tripped over himself as Digger closed the distance.
Digger stopped short, not wanting to panic him. The watchman was a young man with color in his cheeks and nose from the chilling night air and nary a whisker in sight. He continued to wrestle with his weapon, having managed to draw the blade partway out of its sheath.
Dipping his head, Digger made an exaggerated bow. “Apologies, master. The cart is mine. It’s for grave work.”
“Who do you have in there? I heard no report of a murder near here or any other tonight.”
“It’s from yesterday’s triple murder near the tannery.”
“That’s nowhere close to here.”
Digger nodded gravely. “The sheriff wanted to inspect the body and have it looked over by a chemist who lives in the district.”
The young guard’s eyes narrowed. “What chemist?”
When Digger hesitated, Isabel spoke up. “Forgive my brother. The chemist lives by the school down on Fortune Street. We stopped here so we could collect a debt.”
“From who?”
“An ogre. Perhaps you’ve seen him.”
“There’s a few in the city. But you know you’re not to be carting a body all over the place. It’s straight to the graveyard. Leaving him out here is indecent!”
“Yes, sir,” Digger said. “Unprofessional of me. Again, my apologies. But has anyone in your patrol seen an ogre leaving that establishment?”
“That’s enough cheek out of you, fel. If the rest of my patrol was here I’d have you thrashed. Take your cart and do your job. And don’t think this won’t go unreported.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Isabel and Digger both bowed. The guard waited for them to leave. Across the street, a pair of Red Eye’s thugs had been watching, but they vanished and the doors to the theater closed. Digger got the cart underway. Isabel was walking besides him when from behind came a thud. Someone uttered a groan.
Digger turned in time to see the guard’s boots as the man was dragged into the alleyway.
He grabbed his shovel. “Wait here!”
He ran to the corner. A hooded shape was hovering over the guard. The guard was kicking and gasping as whoever held him began to squeeze.
“No, don’t—” Digger said, but before Digger could move, the stranger twisted the guard’s head with a sickening pop. Digger charged. The stranger threw the dead guard down and blocked the blow with a cudgel. He kicked Digger’s knee, sending a wave of white pain through his leg. Digger stumbled back but not in time to avoid a savage strike across his head, leaving his ear ringing. Digger thrust the handle of the shovel into the stranger’s belly. The stranger let out a sharp oof and backed to the opposite side of the alley.
“Who are you?” Digger asked.
It was too dark to see the hooded stranger’s face. He spoke with a scratchy voice. “How quickly we forget.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything. I don’t know you.”
“And I thought I knew you. You abandoned us to come here.”
Something so familiar. But with his pulsing headache from the blow, he couldn’t be sure of anything. The stranger began to edge away deeper into the alley. Digger launched himself forward, vaulting the dead guard and almost catching the stranger across the neck with an overhead swing of the shovel. But while Digger had his eye on the cudgel, he missed the knife. The blade shot out and caught Digger across the knuckles, forcing him to drop the shovel. The cudgel struck his head and the stranger booted him, sending him to the floor of the alley.
Isabel lunged past, the guard’s sword in hand. The stranger sidestepped, shoved the sword aside, and almost disarmed her. She hopped back, straddled Digger and held her sword high, waving it about as if daring the stranger to come at her.
The stranger laughed. “Is this what it took for you to win the queen’s contest? Flash and show?”
“What do you want?” Isabel asked.
“I’m not here for you or him. You showed the city that our kind can beat them. But you’ve squandered it. It’s time for someone to teach them fear.”
Digger inched away until he was sitting against the far wall. The world spun about and he knew he’d pass out if he tried to stand. That voice...
“The time for Diregloom’s games are done. Duke Tito showed his colors with the edict. Purebloods lost the world once. It’s time it was taken from them again.”
With that, the stranger hurried away into the nig
ht, his soft footsteps vanishing in moments.
“That was...interesting,” Isabel said as she helped Digger up.
“That was him. He killed the three pureblood at the tanner’s and then this tourist somewhere near the Dragon and Rose. And now the watchman. This is bad. Really bad.”
“But why?”
He shook his head. The pain in his head was leaving starbursts in his vision. “No clue. But somehow he and I are connected, or at least he thinks so. I’ve got to go back to the bar. They’ve got to close. It’s not optional. This situation is only going to get worse. And I’ve got to feed these two to the trolls.”
Without prompting she moved to grab the feet of the dead watchman. They scooped him up and dropped him in the cart.
“What about Hellard?” she asked.
“Who knows what the ogre’s doing. Spending his winnings, from the sound of it. But we can’t waste any more time on him. Come on.”
As they guided the cart down the street, a sharp metallic whistle penetrated the air. A guard’s whistle. Shouts followed and a group of men holding lanterns came running. They stopped at the alley across from the theater. Voices were calling for someone. Digger could guess they were missing their fellow watchman. They didn’t move about at night alone.
One man raised a lantern. Pointed in their direction. He and another guardsman began marching towards them.
Digger heaved the cart forward and began moving it as fast as possible towards an intersection. Bootsteps were approaching.
The city watch was after them and there would be no explaining why one of their number was dead inside Digger’s cart.
Chapter Eighteen
JAMIE WAS TURNING OUT to be a big yawn.
As she held his arm and strolled down the waterfront, she took him past a dozen bustling establishments still open at the late hour. She kept offering to take him into one for a hand of cards or game of dice.
His response to each? “If that interests you, Aunt Claudia.”
Gambling, flashy shows, scantily clad boys and girls, buskers with guitars or saxophones. None of it caught his attention. In fact he got more sullen the longer the evening went.
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