Bic rolled his eyes. "Not again!"

I have exhausted that line of inquiry, Garrett. Mr. Gonlit sincerely believes that he has never been in that alley. There is no shaking his conviction on that count. Therefore, I am inclined to believe him. However, he cannot account for his whereabouts at the time of the alley event. He is more troubled about that than we are.

I wasn't troubled at all. "Maybe it was him being used by one of the silver guys the way you use the Goddamn Parrot."

That possibility occurred to me. There is no residue in Mr. Gonlit's mind of the sort I would expect to find if he had been manipulated. What is there consists of hints that he may have been asleep. Inasmuch as he does not recall sleeping, we might reasonably suspect that the sleep was induced. Perhaps by the same means as were used on you yesterday.

"All right. And?"

The boy, Cyprus Prose, brought Mr. Gonlit's name into play first.

I'd just been thinking that. Had Kip set us up somehow? Could the Dead Man have missed that while the kid was here?

No.

"Bic, did anybody hire you to hunt down a couple elves name of—"

"Lastyr and Noodiss. I'm tired of that one, too. Give me my damned boots."

He believes he never heard those names before he came in here last night.

I growled. The excitement and optimism were beginning to fade. "Then how come he was following me and you were following him with the Goddamn Parrot?"

Are you genuinely certain you want Mr. Gonlit to hear more about my abilities than you have given away already?

"All right. I wasn't thinking."

Not a first, I might note.

"You might. You might also answer me."

He was following Miss Pular, Garrett. Mr. Big was following you. Insofar as I have been able to determine, their appearance of being together was caused by the proximities of yourself and Miss Pular.

"There've been too damned many coincidences already, Old Bones. You know I believe in them but I don't like them. Next thing you're going to tell me is that good buddy Bic just happened to stumble over Singe as she and Saucerhead were coming to help me out. And being the ingenious fellow that he is, Bic just latched right on. Seizing the day, as it were."

That is quite close to the truth. As Mr. Gonlit knows it. Except for the fact that he was hunting Miss Pular long before we became involved in events. He had traced her to the area where we had her hidden. My call for assistance, unfortunately, brought her out just in time to be spotted.

I generated harrumphing old man noises. I didn't like the way things were going.

You never do. But you have a knack for blundering around, knocking things over, until everything works out.

I harrumphed some more. Practicing. I have plans for an extremely extended old age.

I was profoundly embarrassed by the fact that it took me so long to discover Mr. Gonlit's presence on your backtrail.

"Oh-oh." The Dead Man seldom admits lacks, flaws, or shortcomings. He is, after all, the most perfect of that perfect race, the Loghyr. Just ask him.

When he messes up it's always someone else's fault.

Behold! Then I began to understand. The description I had was entirely inadequate.

"So you didn't figure it was unusual for a guy to be turning up everywhere Singe and I did?" It really is pointless to indicate the holes in his excuse-making. At best he just ignores you.

I should like to engage in a much deeper look into your encounter with the false Bic Gonlit of the alleyway. It is entirely possible that you may have noticed something we passed over as trivial when we were confident that we knew who your conqueror was.

The real Bic Gonlit had grown very restless. "Let me give the man his soles back so he can go on his way." Charged up with uncertain ideas about his place in the grander scheme, his head a nest of confused, false memories.

Turn the bird loose once Mr. Gonlit is a block down the street.

"Of course. There's always hope he'll run into a parrot-eating eagle. Bic, here're your boots. Get going. Stay away from me and stay away from Pular Singe. I guarantee you, Reliance's reward isn't worth it. Belinda Contague used to be my girlfriend."

Bic went pale. He'd heard that rumor. I was still alive. So maybe I could conjure the helpmate of death.

Foolish, Garrett.

He was right. That was a stupid threat. If word got back to Belinda I could end up on crutches. If she happened to be in a generous mood.

I waved bye-bye from the stoop. Then I flung our lowlife, low-profile spy into the air. Then I rejoined Singe and the Dead Man.

Returning to life after having the Dead Man dig around in the muck in the cellars of my mind was less painful than getting whomped unconscious by a silver elf's spell but it did leave me feeling just as lousy emotionally. It left me wanting nothing more than to go back to bed, where I could curl up in a ball and suck my thumb.

That kind of invasion doesn't happen often. And never happens without my permission. But each time it does I swear I'll never let it happen again, no matter how desperate the crisis. But when the time comes I always go ahead, trusting him and knowing I'll get through it. And maybe it's even good for me in the long run. That dark, unhappy memories always seem to settle a little deeper and a little more comfortably, like a bucket full of gravel when you shake and beat it.

I took some cleansing breaths. Some of that martial arts stuff of Morley's really does work if you let yourself believe in it. I found a place removed from my center by just a few miles. "Did we learn anything that makes it worth all my misery?"

I believe we did. Though it is indeed a small thing at first glimpse.

He didn't go on. He wanted me to ask him to show off his brilliance. I wasn't feeling patient enough to get involved in the usual games. "And that was?"

The Bic Gonlit in our alleyway was not wearing the signature boots. You had mentioned missing seeing them earlier but at that time I overlooked the chance that you had not seen them because they were not there. At that time there was no reason to look beyond the obvious. Also, the Gonlit you met out back was several inches taller than this specimen, even without the leather lifts.

"So where does that leave us?"

Essentially still lost but now forearmed with the knowledge that the opposition might appear to us in the guise of someone we know. But not in the form of a perfect replica.

Grumble. "Don't tell me it's shapeshifters again."

I promise. There are no shapeshifters here. There does seem to be some remarkable illusory sorcery, however.

"You said there wasn't any sorcery in the alley."

I did. I do not believe there was. It is a conundrum, is it not?

"Great. So good old Bic is innocent of everything more sinister than trying to score the bounty on Singe. Stipulating that, I want to know how come Kip knew the name and thought Gonlit was after his strange friends. And I'd like to know how that elf got to know Bic well enough to masquerade as him without Bic knowing there was anything going on."

All excellent questions, Garrett. You are learning to think. Unfortunately, Mr. Gonlit does not have any of the answers. We will have to flush those out somewhere else. Inasmuch as we have no hope of uncovering a direct trail to the boy I suspect a visit to the mother has some chance of being productive.