Move it!

‘‘All right! I’m going. Hey! The other day Singe said she thought you’d gotten hold of Lurking Felhske. Did you?’’

She erred. It was Barate Algarda. Someone who might have been Felhske has come within touching range twice. I could not take advantage. He was much too well shielded.

‘‘Why would a Lurking Felhske be protected from you? This is a one-Loghyr town and almost nobody knows that. In general, why are we running into so many protected minds?’’ Kip, Algarda, Felhske, the Windwalker. Maybe even the whole Faction and Hill crew.

Thinking that triggered what seemed an unrelated conjunction down in the deeps of my mind. ‘‘The compliance device. It might not be the red herring you thought.’’

He watched the gears mesh. His own clunked and ground, sparking a burst of anger, of embarrassment, of temptation to claim he had known all along and was just waiting for me to find the truth on my own.

So, even I fail to see what I do not expect or would find repulsive. Incest. The clues were all there.

‘‘I’d say they don’t try to hide it.’’

The incest still does not make the compliance device central.But it becomes more interesting.

Whether or not Furious Tide of Light tried to hide Kevans’ sex, for whatever motive, we knew that Barate knew the truth. We heard him say so. We also heard that Shadowslinger was grandmother to both the Windwalker and Kevans. Could’ve happened more than one way but only one seemed likely. Which was not big in this family, apparently.

The Windwalker being the exception. Who would not want her daughter following after her.

‘‘Here’s a kicker for your don’t-see-what-you-don’t-expect file. The Windwalker might be more jealous than protective.’’

He pulled the relevant incidents from my recollections. You could be right. A pause of a half minute for some heavy-duty multiple-mind cogitation.

Kevans would be the one repelled by the idea. No doubt having had direct experience. Which would explain her initialinterest in creating what would turn into the compliance device. She wanted a way to know when her father was interested. To give her time to get out of his way.

‘‘Then all for one and one for all, and the kids all hung out at her house.’’

Indeed. Young Mr. Prose did tell us that the object of the Faction is mutual support. Assuming Kevans had the strength to ask for their help. . . .

‘‘That little shit lied to us. He came up with the compliance device. For her. All that stuff about trying to find a way to avoid social mistakes. . . . Smoke screen. Pure bullshit. The little asshole has been leading us around by our prejudices!’’ I got as wound up as the Dead Man had been a minute earlier.

I had no trouble imagining Kip and Kevans down in their bunker snickering over how they had snookered us. And their own old folks besides.

If he comes up with any ambition at all, that kid will wind up king of the world.

This would be a side trail we can take up, on our own behalf, after we have made the World safe for play production.Our wounds are grievous deep but not fatal. We have a dragon to slay and ghosts to lay.

True. The kitty had to be fed first.

But I was so stung I figured I’d be seeing Kip’s mom by the end of the week. Tinnie willing.

You really must get going, Garrett.

‘‘All right. All right. I’m on it.’’ But, of course, I had one more thing to do before I could plunge into the cold.

I visited Dean, turned him into a temporary operative by giving him instructions involving Joe Kerr, Playmate, John Stretch, Saucerhead’s wages, and Playmate’s fees.

I stopped off and gave Eleanor a big wink before I hit the street.

I opened the front door. An arctic breeze handed me a full body swat, shoved me back. ‘‘There’s a freaking blizzard going on out there!’’ I heaved the door shut before the abominable snowmen invaded.

Time to layer up.

Dean was at the far end of the hall, wearing a smirk. He’d come out to watch. Likewise, Singe, right there almost within smacking distance. Looking less smug because she hadn’t yet mastered that human trick.

‘‘Funny people. Somebody could’ve warned me. Came on kind of sudden, didn’t it?’’

Not really.

He was right. The signs had been there. I’d had other things on my mind. Still did, in fact.

I wondered what other things was doing right now. Showing her hand at home?

I did layer up, best I could. Then I went out into that mess, operating on the theory that I couldn’t get lost in a city where I’d lived all my life, and driven by a need to show somebody something. Who knows what.

It ought to be a good day to get stuff done. Shouldn’t be many people underfoot. I didn’t notice anyone watching. I didn’t smell anyone, either.

Mr. Jan was not distraught about his loaner coat. ‘‘No need to worry, Mr. Garrett. No need. It was crap, though I made it myself. I kept it because the man who ordered it never picked it up.’’ This while he was fitting my new coat. Which I just plain loved. ‘‘You satisfy his marker and I’ll say nothing.’’

‘‘How much?’’

He named a figure that disabused me of any suspicion that he might be a nice, honest, fair little old tailor. I protested. He told me, ‘‘I’m sorry you feel that way. Very well. I’ll put it back on the peg. Jokes may redeem it yet.’’

Can’t be many people who go by Jokes. There’s only one Saucerhead Tharpe. Probably only one Lurking Felhske. And couldn’t be more than one Jokes Leastor. Who expired of a surfeit of blood loss a couple years ago, after someone he didn’t know as well as he thought objected to one of his pranks.

Jokes Leastor was exactly the guy who would’ve had that clown coat made.

‘‘I’d better have mercy on you, Mr. Jan. Jokes won’t be coming back. Or, if he does, he won’t be needing a coat. Quite the opposite.’’

‘‘Has something happened to him?’’

‘‘He played one joke too many. He ended up room temperature. A while back, now.’’

‘‘I feared as much. He was slow but he did always get around to paying.’’

Face saved all round, we finished the fitting, I gave him his blood money, donned the remnants of Jokes’ sartorial declaration, then pointed my nose toward the big cold.

Mr. Jan said, ‘‘This should be done in two to three days. I’ll have a courier take it round to your place. Unless I need you to come back for some final measurements.’’

‘‘Excellent.’’

I returned to the white reflecting on the fact that in just days an old tailor had managed to find out where I lived.

I made a big mistake. I headed for The Palms. It was the nearest place where I could both get warm and be welcome. I should’ve headed for Playmate’s stable instead. That was almost as close. But Playmate is all boring and honest. Morley Dotes is crooked as a dog’s hind leg. And he’s involved in stuff that keeps me barking with curiosity.