A Path to Coldness of Heart tlcotde-3

by Glen Cook

  Let’s find out if Tefe Black was related. If so, we’l look for the man Black’s girls ran to… Doctor?”

  Wachtel seemed to be choking.

  ...

  “That isn’t particularly subtle,” Nepanthe observed, watching over Varthlokkur’s shoulder. “You said you don’t want people remembering you.”

  The Unborn was making a night progress over Sedlmayr. “This is the time when little plots wil come to life.

  Radeachar wil discourage them.”

  “What wil you do about what’s happening in Vorgreberg?” She meant the girl-kil er.

  He sighed. He did care. He was appal ed. But there were only so many hours and no way everyone could be saved.

  There were bigger issues. And those people were not idiots. They could manage if they wanted.

  “And tel me this, husband. How can you eavesdrop in Castle Krief but not on Haroun or Mist?”

  “We lived in Castle Krief. I know every inch. Every inch remembers me. And I bespel ed the place before we left.” And he could eavesdrop on Mist, when conditions were right. But Mist insisted on making it difficult now that she knew it could be done.

  The truth was more technical but that was the gist.

  “The baby-kil er.”

  Exasperated, “What would you have me do?”

  “Something. Good men do nothing.”

  He counted silently.

  Nepanthe said, “The Star Rider wil be there til the end of time. Meantime, the monster has hold of another girl.”

  “I understand.” Surrendering to the wil of the wife.

  The vil ain should not be hard to find. A divination at the body dump… “I’d have to go there. I can’t manage the time dives from here.”

  Fright flashed across Nepanthe’s face. “Real y? You’re not just saying that so I’l ask you to back off?”

  “No. I have to be there to catch the necessary personal resonances.”

  Nepanthe freed one of her classic sighs. “What must be, must be. Go.”

  “You insist?”

  “I do.”

  “I’l set Scalza’s scrying bowl so you can watch.” That lacked any facility for listening in. He did some this and that while mumbling about it being a good thing that Radeachar did not have much character. The monster had gotten flung al over creation lately, with little respite.

  He had the Unknown show itself blatantly, then cal ed it back to Fangdred.

  ...

  Ozora Mundwil er glared at Kristen. She scowled at Dahl Haas. “That thing is going house to house, staring in windows!”

  Dahl said, “The wizard wants it understood that he’s watching.”

  The old woman seemed inclined to lay the blame at their feet. “We’ve always known that. Why the sudden close-ups?”

  Kristen said, “Neither of us knows Varthlokkur wel enough to fathom his thinking. If I was to guess, though, the intent is to panic somebody into thinking that the wizard is onto them.”

  “Somebody in Sedlmayr.”

  Dahl nodded. “Would that be a first?”

  “No. But it would be someone skil ed at not getting noticed.” Aral Dantice came to al three minds. And Aral had disappeared.

  Ozora announced, “I have regained my composure. I wil assume the Unborn’s behavior to be a message. I’l ask questions. If there is anything going on I wil expose it.

  Bight? Where is that boy?”

  Haas said, “He’s got a new crush.”

  “That Blodgett chit? He’s not supposed to let Kristen out of his sight.”

  “She would be the one,” Kristen said, amused. “She may be just a wee bit more pliable than I am.”

  “I’l ply…”

  Haas added, “She seems like a nice kid. Down to earth.

  For her age.”

  “But an orphan,” Ozora grumbled. Styling. It was no secret she actual y liked Bertie Blodgett. The girl made her laugh.

  “Living on the charity of the enThal family. Where did she come from, anyway? Those people…!”

  Old family animosities were at work there. Ozora was too old and set to let them slide. She was, surprisingly, stil flexible enough not to issue anti-fraternization decrees on that basis alone.

  Later, Dahl teased Kristen, “You got too old for Bight.”

  “What you mean is, too sophisticated.”

  “And too taken.”

  “That could be changed. I see the way you look at that Bertie.”

  “Can I help it if I’m not dead yet? A man is a man. I never do anything but look.”

  Kristen did not take that in the spirit in which it was offered.

  ...

  “I don’t have the skil s to divine the past!” Babeltausque declared, not for the first time. “I’m not real y a necromancer. The spirits I command can’t look back, either. We need to find something of the vil ain’s and trace that. Or just keep on working the neighborhood where the girls grew up. We’l find something eventual y.” Nathan Wolf asked, “Does it have to be something that belonged to the vil ain? We do have the dead girl.”

  “That might work,” Babeltausque conceded, irked that it had taken a layman to suggest what should have been obvious to him.

  So far working the neighborhood had produced only rumors, ugly stories, and malicious finger-pointing. Few local girls reached their wedding days untouched by family or neighbors. People considered it part of growing up.

  But nobody sanctioned what had been done to Phyletia Plens. They pretended to cooperate, speculated freely, and strained muscles in their eagerness to point fingers.

  The butcher was a magnet. Neighbors wondered if he had not kil ed Haida Heltkler and blended her into his sausages.

  Stil fighting that cough, Josiah Gales said, “We could put Black to the question. That would get to the facts.” Inger said, “Do arrest him. What is al that noise?” A grand racket had developed elsewhere in the castle.

  “A mob?” Babeltausque asked, suddenly frightened.

  Wasn’t it too soon for that kind of trouble?

  Inger said, “Nathan, find out what’s happening. And bring the doctor when you come back.”

  As the door closed, Babeltausque said, “Black isn’t our kil er but he does know something about the girls who lived in his house.”

  Possibly. One girl later murdered and another now missing.

  Significantly, though, the other victims and missing girls had lived within a short distance of Black’s shop.

  Inger said, “I want the doctor because I have a notion worse than running girls through a meat grinder. Which, you’l recal , did not happen to Phyletia Plens. What we do have is the monster’s seed that he spil ed into Phyletia.

  Babeltausque, you and the doctor wil …”

  The door opened. A man stepped inside.

  Inger final y exhaled. “Varthlokkur!”

  “I am not happy to be here. My wife insists that I help stop what’s been happening.”

  Babeltausque withstood the wizard’s stare. “It isn’t me.”

  “True. But you do know what became of one missing girl.” Babeltausque inclined his head. “She isn’t missing. She’s hiding.”

  Oh, he hated to confess. He did not want to suffer the disapprobation he would face now. But he would not grant the wizard a blackmail hold.

  “I see. Consensual.”

  “Entirely.”

  The wizard surveyed the others. “One disappearance solved already. Tel me about the others.” Wolf and Wachtel arrived while Babeltausque was confessing. The doctor looked older than his incredible age. He was pale and grim. His hands trembled.

  Wolf said, “I sent men to fetch Black. Meantime, we have a smal mystery, brought to my attention while I was out.

  There, by the way, is the cause of the excitement.” He nodded at Varthlokkur.

  “What is the mystery?”

  “We have ghosts in the cemetery.”

  “That seems the most likely place to find them.”

  �
��Absolutely, but for the fact that nobody ever saw any until, a while back, a Siluro family squatting in Fiana’s mausoleum were evicted by ghosts who then vanished when the Unborn appeared.”

  Everyone looked at Varthlokkur, who said, “I have no idea.

  Maybe I should go see. Now. I’ve heard from Her Majesty and my fel ow wizard. Suppose you speak next, Colonel Gales?”

  “Not much to tel . I was a prisoner. They turned me loose.

  I’ve been trying to regain my health. My experience doesn’t connect with the matter at hand.”

  “The Heltkler girl was associated with your captors.” Gales shrugged. “I never saw a girl. I saw one man. He brought food and made sure I didn’t try to get away. I was drugged most of the time. Those times when my head did clear I was too sick to act.”

  “Nathan Wolf. I know little about you.”

  Wolf shivered, told what he could. The wizard did not interrupt. He tolerated repetition of information already given. He was sniffing for previously undetected connections.

  “Excel ent. You are a skil ed observer. Is it possible that the Heltkler girl disappeared into the same fog as the men who kidnapped Colonel Gales?”

  Babeltausque opened his mouth, then shut it. That possibility had not occurred to him. His hungers, fears, and preconceptions, fueled by the hysteria stirred by Phyletia’s dark fate, had shoved political possibilities right out of his head.

  He was not alone.

  Josiah Gales gave up a cough that was a smal confession of embarrassment.

  Babeltausque said, “So. A plausible explanation for what happened to another girl. Does that take the load off Arnulf Black? She might have run to escape him instead of us.” Varthlokkur faced Wachtel. “Doctor? You have something?” The old man shook. “I won’t be doing surgery much longer.” Varthlokkur told him, “These people al know your secret.

  For my part, I don’t care what made you become political.”

  “My physician’s oath. These invaders only mean to use the people of Kavelin like farm animals.”

  “As may be, we have children to save. We have a monster to identify. Can you contribute to that cause?” Wachtel talked about girls found dead in the past.

  “Might there have been others?”

  “Almost certainly.”

  Nathan Wolf suggested, “There could have been dozens.

  Girls go missing al the time. Most run away. The ones we know about are the ones whose bodies were found.” Varthlokkur said, “Youth sel s. There are those who exploit that. With Her Majesty’s permission I’d like to interview people who operate houses of prostitution. Those who get stubborn can answer to Radeachar. Doctor. You stil have Phyletia Plens?”

  “I do. Preserved in col aboration with the sorcerer. I was sure we would get back to her eventual y.”

  “Excel ent. You and I wil examine her now. Babeltausque, please join us. I’l need to see where she was found after I examine her remains.”

  ...

  Word swept the city. Varthlokkur had returned. He was hunting a childkil er. Once he interviewed them Vorgreberg’s pimps and procurers stopped employing talents under fourteen. It took only one visit from the Unborn to drive the message home.

  That monster became a permanent aerial phenomenon.

  Vorgrebergers were six parts terrified and the rest of a dozen thril ed. Every vanished daughter for thirty years past was one vil ain’s fault, suddenly. Tavern speculation concentrated on what might be the ugliest possible means of dealing with the beast.

  There were no votes for quick or kind.

  Inger told Josiah Gales, “We’re riding high today. If we found that money now we could real y cash in.” Gales was tired of hearing about a treasure he no longer believed existed. “Ask Varthlokkur to find it.”

  “I did. He chuckled and said it wil be no help if we do find it.” ...

  A sense of unease descended on Sedlmayr, fed by the news that Varthlokkur had returned to Vorgreberg. The truth, that he had come to hunt a foul murderer, was disbelieved by many.

  The road east fil ed with agents determined to learn the real story. ...

  Babeltausque shuffled slowly along to see his Carrie Depar. No special hunger drove him. Something was wrong with him. He ought not to be tired of Carrie so soon, yet his infatuation had begun to fade. Because everyone disapproved? Why? She was damned near legal. Certainly older than he preferred.

  Could it be fear? The mob would not stop to listen if he tried to explain that Carrie was with him by choice.

  He knew that no one real y listened even at the best of times. No one wanted to be reminded that they had failings of their own.

  It was dark. A sliver of autumn moon drifted toward the western horizon. The air was brisk but not yet outright cold.

  Something burred past Babeltausque. He thought it must be a big bug, yet experience made him dive into the ditch beside the road. That bug had to be a sling bul et.

  There was water in the ditch. It was cold and rank.

  A voice grumbled. Another, closer, said, “Nah. I think I missed.”

  Babeltausque slithered forward, quietly as he could. The ditch would debouch into a wet weather creek just ahead.

  That passed through a culvert under the road. He should fit.

  Holed up, he could plan his counterattack.

  He listened to them grumble as they searched. He did not recognize their voices. They did not know the terrain. They did not have a light by which to find his obvious trail.

  This must be political. They must want to strip Inger of her most dangerous al y.

  Babeltausque’s heartbeat settled some. He plied his sorcerer’s skil s. He did not counterattack but, rather, marked the men with little spel s that would betray them later, hoping they could be traced back to whoever sent them.

  He waited for them to give up. That took another miserable half hour. He had time to reflect. He had become so predictable that enemies were able to set an ambush. That had to change. Then he thought about the geography between Castle Krief and Mist’s old mansion. There were other culverts. There was an abandoned wel . There were several cesspools, including a dried up pit behind Mist’s mansion. There were improved springs, cisterns, and fish ponds. Few of those had been examined by treasure hunters. People figured that a Rebsamen don like Derel Prataxis would not hide anything in unpleasant places.

  Babeltausque suspected that he and Nathan would be getting wet and filthy soon.

  Tonight, though… Tonight was for Carrie.

  The fire had returned.

  ...

  Babeltausque inched toward the stairway down to his beloved. How bored was she? How much would she whine about being cooped up here with nothing to do but wait til he felt the need?

  He had only a moment to realize that he was not alone.

  An exotic beauty emerged from broken wainscoting and rose in front of him, bits of broken wood sliding off her.

  She was more surprised than he. That al owed him a running start. He hit the night with arms and legs flailing.

  This was the first time he had seen that woman but he knew who she was.

  He was too focused on covering ground to notice the Unborn descending behind him.

  Chapter Nineteen:

  Year 1017 AFE:

  Chaos in Peace

  Mist shoved the broken woodwork aside, duck-walked a step, rose to find herself face to face with a chubby man in black. He smel ed like swamp water. He squeaked and ran. She fol owed, hoping to keep him from reporting her presence. That hope died when she stepped outside.

  The Unborn came down from the night as though it had been waiting just for her.

  Reason suggested that it must have been tracking the man now in such enthusiastic flight.

  The Unborn settled at eye level, a dozen feet away. It was unafraid.

  Mist wondered if it was capable of fear.

  It shot upward, then whipped away toward Vorgreberg.

  Mist’s lifeguard stepped out i
n time to watch it dwindle. “Is there a problem, Il ustrious?”

  “I don’t think so. Though there was a man here when I left the portal. He ran away. We should have time to poke around.”

  Wait! Here that man came, a pale witch light burning over his left shoulder.

  “Il ustrious?”

  “He doesn’t seem bel igerent.”

  The pudgy fel ow approached til he was three yards away.

  His light grew stronger. Mist’s bodyguard stepped out to her left, watching the man’s right hand.

  Mist asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting.”

  “For what?”

  He faced Vorgreberg. “It won’t be long.” The Unborn reappeared. “Not long at al .” He turned back. “I am Babeltausque, a wizard. Mouse size, relatively speaking.” The Unborn closed fast. It was not alone. Varthlokkur dangled beneath it.

  “Il ustrious! Get behind me.”

  “There is no point. Either we are in no danger or it is too late to protect ourselves. You. Sorcerer. What is he doing here?”

  “Helping find an ugly and elusive child-kil er.”

  “Tel me.”

  He was stil talking when the Unborn deposited the Empire Destroyer beside him. Mist felt tension rise in her companion.

  Varthlokkur smiled. “You were the ghost in the graveyard, too.”

  So. The squatters had talked. And so had the Unborn. “I’m told you’re hunting an especial y horrible vil ain.”

  “A clever or lucky one. My skil s at divining the past have been inadequate, though he made no deliberate effort to hide from my sort.”

  An outsider might have suspected that there was more than verbal communication going on. Both were deceitful in appearance. Both were ages older than they looked, though not necessarily wiser.

  “I’m wil ing to contribute,” Mist said. “This young man told me a great deal. He lied a lot, too, but I’l forgive him. He was protecting his principal.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a daughter.”

  Mist wondered what she was doing.

  Both wizards were calculating, too.

  She had to buy time. Varthlokkur had identified her only other entrance into Kavelin. She needed to get more set up quickly. Just in case.

  She repeated herself. “I have children, too. I might be able to help.” That knocked Varthlokkur off balance.