"Take her home."

"I'm not going to argue. I'm just going to tell you she said she don't want to go. She's old enough to make up her own mind. Pick up your buddies and leave."

He looked at me like he wanted to tell me what it meant to get into the Stormwarden's way, then just shrugged. Saucerhead let go of the two he had. The bunch began getting themselves together. Amber started to say something. I told her to go in­side. We would talk after the crowd thinned out. She went, and Raver Styx's thugs did the same, leaving me with a flock of promising black looks.

"You're starting to catch on, Garrett. Talk after you kick ass. They're more inclined to hear what you have to say."

That was Morley Dotes talking from a perch on the stoop next door. He got up and came down, stood with us watching the Stormwarden's boys stumble off. I said nothing, not knowing what might set him off. He offered me a folded piece of paper. I looked him in the eye for a moment. His expression remained bland.

There was nothing on that paper but a name: Lyman Gameleon.

"I've heard of him. Big bear on the Hill, and so forth. What's the significance?"

"Just thought I'd save you some trouble, Garrett. That's the man who sent the soldiers into Ogre Town. A man who, coincidentally, happens to be your Stormwarden's next-door neighbor—and bitterest enemy, politically and personally. Not to mention being her husband's older half-brother."

"Hey! Very interesting. Thanks, Morley."

"No big deal, Garrett." He waved one hand as he marched away.

The tidbit was Morley's way of extending the olive branch.

Saucerhead said, "It's time I was going, too, Garrett. Take care of Miss daPena."

I considered his broad back as he went. Had he said more than he had said? With Saucerhead it's hard to tell if he's just being a dumb goof or a mild cynic. I went inside and locked up. I looked around for Amber, didn't see her. "Amber?"

"In your office."

I went in. She had parked herself in my chair and seemed to be sulking.

"Cheer up. You were marvelous."

"You manipulated me."

"Of course I did. Would you have stood up to those thugs if you weren't mad?"

"Probably not."

I settled on a corner of the desk. "One piece of news that might perk you up. I think there's a small chance we can lay hands on some of the gold."

"You're stringing me along again, aren't you?"

"No. It's a long shot but a real chance. I didn't think there was one before. It depends on how distracted your mother is by the emotional side of what's happened. I think I know what happened to some of the gold, but finding it is going to be like scratching through the pro­verbial haystack. We'll need time."

"You mean it, don't you?"

"Yes. Though I admit I'm riding a hunch." Dean brought beer and wine. We thanked him. I told Amber, "I can't stay awake much longer. I'm going to turn in. I'll see you in the morning." She flashed me a wicked smile.

I understood the smile soon enough. I didn't latch my door. Who does, inside his own house? Amber took that as an invitation. Not only did I see her sooner than I expected, I got less sleep than I hoped. Repeated clamors at the front door, ignored by the entire household, also interrupted my rest.

I staggered out when the smell of breakfast over­powered my laziness. As I descended the stairs an­other hurrah broke out at the front door. I slipped over and peered through the peephole. An ugly face, bloated and red, bobbed outside. A mouth filled with bad teeth gaped and bellowed. I closed the peephole and went to breakfast. I leaned back and patted my belly. "Dean, of all the several geniuses infesting this place, I think you're the most valuable. Where the hell did you find strawberries?"

"My niece May brought them. They've been in the cold well for three days."

Nieces again? At that rate of regression the Dead Man would soon be interested in Glory Mooncalled again. "I'd better see if his nibs is awake." Sooner or later that front door was going to have to open. "Amber, your mother is bound to come. You going to want to be scarce?"

"I can face her as long as I've got a place to run when it gets gruesome."

"You're all right, then. Dean, I'll take a mug of tea while I rattle Old Bones."

Dean scowled and grumbled, not at all inclined to let me take matters into my own hands. He prepared the tea with such care and deliberation I was ready to do without before he finished. Tea is tea. Making a religious cere­mony of fixing it doesn't improve it a bit. There are those who would consider me a barbarian— the same ones who aren't civilized enough to appreciate good beer. The Dead Man was awake. He wasn't in a mood to be interrupted. He knew we'd have company soon and was working himself up for it. I believe he had visions of using the Stormwarden—who had been in the Cantard for months—as a chamois to buff up his Glory Mooncalled theory.

I followed Amber's example and went to my room to groom myself for the hours ahead.

That done, I settled at a window and watched the street. It wasn't quiet out there. The Stormwarden's men remained at their posts but weren't watching the house. Their carrying on had drawn a crowd. The lords of the Hill can get away with a lot. They usually remain above the laws that keep the rest of us from preying on each other. But the invasion of a home without the prior approval of the judges is something people won't tolerate. Had the Stormwarden's men tried to break in during the night, they might have gotten away with something— had the Dead Man allowed it. Now it was too late. If they tried, the crowd would tear them apart. Our over­lords have to exercise a delicate touch when they violate the sanctity of the home. I hoped the uptown boys didn't get stupid. I had worked myself into a tight enough place already.

They kept me there. And company, when it came, did so from an unexpected quarter. From the corner of my eye I caught a stir coming from downtown. What to my wondering eye should appear but Saucerhead Tharpe in convoy with Sadler and Crask. The bunch looked like they had breakfasted on bitterbark soup at Morley's place.

I sighed. "I knew things were shaping up too damned well."

I ran into Amber in the hallway. She asked, "Is she here?"

"Not yet. It's Saucerhead and a couple guys you don't even want to know by sight. And I'm not going to be able to find out what they want if you don't let me get to the stairs."

"Oh." She stepped aside. "Grouch."

"You're probably right. You might warn Dean so he can get something ready. They look like they'll need it."

I was three steps from the door when Saucerhead knocked. 1 glanced through the peephole and opened up. As my guests entered I gave the Stormwarden's red-faced boy a glare and said, "Don't even think about it." He got redder, but I didn't have to watch. I shut the door on him.

I seated them in the small front room next to my office. Dean appeared with tea and sweetcakes just as though they were expected. I said, "Well? What is it? How bad is it?"

Saucerhead glanced at the other two. They were will­ing to let him do the talking. I couldn't quite tell what the threesome were up to. There was no tension between them, just a commonality of undirected disgust. Tharpe said, "Skredli got away."

"Skredli? Got? Away? What did he do? Sprout wings and fly? Was he some kind of werebuzzard?" I'd never heard of such a beast, but nothing in this world surprises me anymore. If a man can turn into a wolf, why not an ogre into a buzzard? Both transformations seem singu­larly fitting. Perhaps even symbolic.

Prejudiced? Who? Me?

The gods forefend.