“I’d have a brace of cannon waiting just north of Bel Loit. Open fire and hope for the best.”

“I hope Evis has thought of that.”

“He has. Claims the Queen has anti-cannon spells, and that they’ve got patrols out on both sides of the Brown.”

“You don’t seem reassured.”

“Haven’t seen a wand-waver yet who could stop a volley of cannon fire.”

She was silent for a moment. I nearly drifted off but Darla shook me awake.

“Let’s go for that stroll you promised,” she said. “I’ll get the pocket-watch. You should shave or they might mistake you for an Ogre and ask you to shovel coal.”

I stroked my chin. “I’m more likely to make Captain if I grow a beard.”

Darla rose. “Well, until you do, you’re still my husband the finder, and I’m bored, so let’s go find something.” She predicted my thoughts. “Something that isn’t beer.”

I sat up and yawned. “Yes, dear.”

She darted into our bathroom and threw a towel out at me. “There you are, Captain.”

I rose and found my razor.

A leisurely stroll from the Queen’s blunt bow to her shiny red wheel took all of four minutes on the wide outdoor deck that surrounds the casino’s stained glass windows. The same walk through the second deck’s cherry-paneled halls took three and half.

I made it in two at a run. Add a flight of stairs and a pair of inquisitive Avalante foot soldiers, and it’s a hair over two and a quarter minutes.

Going from the casino to the Regent’s well-guarded rooms takes three minutes if you’re not in a hurry. The looks we got from the wand-wavers stationed there suggested people who arrived in a hurry might meet with the kind of reception that leaves ugly stains on the floor.

Darla spoke. “So what did all that prove?”

We leaned on the rail and watched the sluggish Brown River flow.

“Double those times, if the boat is full. Triple them if there’s a panic and a rush.” I took off my hat and let the breeze dry my sweaty forehead. “That’s the weak spot I was looking for. The stairs are bottlenecks. Catch a certain someone in his room. Raise a ruckus somehow. You’ve got a good five minutes before Avalante can shove halfdead soldiers in your face. That’s a lot of time for mischief, my dear. A lot of time.”

Darla nodded and put her hand on mine. “Surely they’ve thought of that?”

“They did. And they came up with a solution. I’m just not sure it’s good enough.”

“We saw a dozen armed vampires appear out of nowhere the instant an alarm was raised.”

I put my hat back on. “That we did. But the place was empty. And if my guess is correct, they probably can’t keep more than half a dozen halfdead anywhere near our special guest’s room.”

“There are hiding places in the walls?”

“Have to be. All that fancy wood trim? All those burnished cherry panels? I can’t think of a better way to hide a sneaky door.”

Darla reddened. “If I find a single peep-hole into our room I’m going to stuff Evis into one of his boilers.”

“I’ll help. Let’s go find a secret door and see where it leads.”

“We’ll need a candle and some matches.”

“And beer. We might get lost and wander for days.”

“That’s why I married a ham-fisted brute, dear. So you can break down doors before I get thirsty.”

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a box of matches and a pair of new candles. “Look what I found. What a coincidence.”

Darla laughed, grabbed the end of my tie, and we went in search of the Queen’s hidden passages.

Finding the first trick door took all of an hour. Some master craftsman had concealed the doorframe so cleverly I couldn’t see it even after I’d convinced myself it was there.

But there it was, in plain sight. Finding the hidden latch and getting it open took another twenty minutes.

Explaining what we were doing opening a secret door to the wary halfdead gunmen who spilled out of the dark required a mere five minutes, and culminated in an even briefer conversation with a bleary-eyed Evis through his barely-opened door.

“I wondered how long it would take you to find them,” he muttered after a whispered exchange with his fellows. “You might as well come on in. Got word that Stitches hit the brunettes. Waiting for news now.”

The halfdead gunmen left without a backward glance. Evis vanished from his door, leaving it cracked. I heard him shuffling around in his dark room, and then a lamp flared.

“I’m decent,” he called. We opened his door and stepped inside.

Evis’s suite had no windows. Every wall was lined with books and scrolls and charts. A big, plain, oak desk sat in the middle of the room, covered with papers. A green glass magelamp hung above the desk, simulating twilight. There was a short couch and two comfy high-backed padded chairs and what I hoped was an icebox for keeping beer in a corner.

Evis closed the only other door, which I assumed led to the adjoining bedroom. A sliver of light showed at the bottom, and if Darla and I saw a brief shadow pass across it, we both pretended we’d been looking elsewhere.

“Sorry to roust you out at this hour,” I said.

He shrugged and motioned for us to sit. We took the couch. He collapsed in a chair and turned to face us. “So you found the dunways.”

“Dunways? The hidden doors?”

“Technically, the passages behind the doors. But yes. Well done. What tipped you off?” His eyes glinted in the dim light until he reached for his spectacles and put them on.

“Best way to move armed staff around without causing a fuss,” I said.

“Also good for accidentally overhearing private conversations,” said Darla.

“The dunways are strictly for security on this trip,” said Evis.

“How many guns will you have hidden in the walls, Evis?”

“Sixty-two. All highly trained. All absolutely fearless. Feel better?”

“Some.” I pretended not to see that pesky shadow race across the bottom of Evis’s door again. “Might as well have sixty-two men on the moon if they’re not in the right place at the right time.”

Evis looked toward Darla. “He’s cute when he’s grumpy, isn’t he?”

“So, what’s this about Stitches?”

“Don’t know yet. She said she had a scheme to grab the hex women, whatever they’re called.”

“The bentans?”

“Yeah. Them. I got word she took a couple of wagons and a dozen staff before sunup this morning, and now I hear she’s back at Avalante with a wagonload of bodies.”

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” shouted Evis.

Stitches herself stepped through the door.

Her robe stank of wood smoke. Her sleeves were scorched and torn. When she pulled back her hood to reveal her face, it was black with soot.

Her bleeding lips, though, were trying to form a smile.

Good. You are here. Mrs. Markhat.

“You look like hell,” said Evis. “Sit, if you want.”

I believe I shall. The day has been taxing. She crossed to the vacant chair and settled gingerly into it, as though favoring numerous injuries. I got them. All of them.

“The bentans?”

Yes. I know who made them, Mr. Prestley. I know who, and I believe I know why.

“Spill it.”

I shall. But first-

She raised her hands and traced out a complicated pattern in the air. There was a sound, and for an instant her fingertips left visible trails of light.

She clapped her hands and the luminous pattern faded away.

Precautions. The living simulacrums were animated by the hand of Hag Mary herself. I trust you are acquainted with the name, Mr. Prestley?

I didn’t like the way Evis went suddenly stiff and still.

“That’s just a legend.”

I fear it is not. Hag Mary lived, and lives still, and something has stirred her to send these bentans against Mr. Markhat.

“I hate to interrupt, but what the hell is a Hag Mary, and what have I ever done to her?”