Bloodhound (43 page)

I was there some time. At last I had things sorted out. Over and over I'd heard a mot's cold voice say, "This one's inconvenient. A silver noble to leave me alone with her," or him. Other times she'd order, "Very good. Clean up." I'd heard that voice, the day Pearl had bidden its owner to nab Goodwin and me. It belonged to the old doxie, the one that Okha said killed for Pearl. Zolaika.

There was another familiar voice. It belonged to the cage Dog Shales. " – hit my little lad today. Just... hit 'im, because he wouldn't stop whinin' for me to tell 'im a story."

Anglesea was in Shhasow, too. "I b'lieve I'll just put a word in Her Majesty's ear, that Haryse was sniffin' around that Elkes scut."

At last Shhasow was empty of voices and tired. She couldn't understand why I hadn't run away like the other twoleggers who stepped through her. Though they couldn't hear,
they felt
her, and they fled. She didn't know why I was still there or why she could tell what I thought.

"Don't mind that. Look, I bring a gift," I said, and I upended my package of dirt in her heart. She slowed her spin, then opened up. Her coils were lighter. With everyday happiness inside her, she might fare better. I hope so.

I left her and went to Achoo. I sat beside my hound for a while, letting her wash my face and hands with her tongue. Finally, with only my clothes unwashed, she curled up in my lap. I bent to rest my face in her fur.

There are some things about being a Dog, and knowing all the things that Dogs do, that I cannot bear.

When Achoo's sharp elbows got uncomfortable, I decided we really ought to work some more. Down to Eagle Street we walked, sharing sticks of cooked shrimp, then cooked sausage. Achoo was not interested in my bunch of grapes, which meant more for me. I made it up to her with a slice of raw, boneless fish. I glimpsed Haden behind me once, and hoped that he and Pearl's spy were able to get sommat to eat.

As we got closer to Lowdown, I set two of my hidden knives in my waistband, hilts sticking out of the slits in my tunic. I also moved my boot knives up so the hilts were visible. Lowdown reminded me of my birthing ground in the Cesspool. A mot who walked there had best let everyone know she was armed.

I took a wrong turn twice, more because I was eyeing them that was eyeing me than because I misremembered my map. I found myself at last on Eagle Street at a familiar corner, where Hesserrr the dust spinner lived. To my left was a familiar alley. It ended in a building that sported no signs, only a strong door. That would be the entrance to Pearl Skinner's Eagle Street court, where she had talked to Goodwin and me.

Hesserrr was still on his corner, whipped to head height by the strong breeze coming off the harbor. I opened one of my packets of dust. Achoo whined as she watched.

"No, this will be much better," I told her. I always forgot she did not understand as Pounce would. For all I know, she does, and does not tell me. "I know this spinner. He's not cracked."

This packet was made of green cloth, meaning I'd taken the contents from the Palace Way by the Daymarket, the busiest street in all Corus. Shhasow had proved my belief, that the dust carried the flavors of the places it had been, even the feelings of those who had been on it last. I was bringing Hesserrr a taste of someplace he would never go. I cut the stitches on the packet, waited until there was no one close by, and stepped into the spinner. Achoo watched.

With my eyes closed, I released the dust and dirt from Corus into the spinner's breezes. Hesserrr greeted me with pleasure, greedily snatching the dust away from my nose and letting me breathe the air that shaped him. He released the scents caught in his breezes. I breathed in the sea, ships – wood, tar, and brass polish – seaweed, and fish. And, as the dust and grit I'd brought built up his sides, Hesserrr began to release the human talk that was trapped there. This was so much better than my visit with Shhasow. Much of it was nonsense, since breezes don't always linger for a whole conversation and Hesserrr wasn't trapped in an alley behind the cages. I heard bits about cargoes, storms, family matters.

Then I heard a gixie's voice. " – makes no sense, stealin' a purse only t' put another in its place!"

And a cove's rough reply. "Ye do as yer told. 'Tisn't yer place t' question Her Majesty!"

But the girl was stubborn. "I never had no guard t' filch afore, Dad! An' why are we only reportin' t' Queen Pearl or Jurji?"

The sound of a slap ended that.

Only the oldest spinners are able to keep so much. Hesserrr must be dozens of years old, mayhap even a century or two, like my friend Hasfush back in Corus. I was even luckier than I'd hoped.

More shreds were caught as folk opened and closed the doors of the Court of the Rogue. I heard gossip about robberies, murders, Dogs, gambling, prices, lovers, and anything else under Mithros's sun. I tried to memorize as much as I could. I heard Pearl tell a rusher that if he couldn't guard an underfed little filcher, she'd find a rusher who could.

From the hollow sounds in that bit of talk, I knew they were alone. No other voices or noises mixed with theirs. It confirms what I think. The pickpockets who give Pearl's enemies purses full of coles are known to Pearl only. She keeps it secret from most of her people.

I nearly jumped out of Hesserrr when the next clear piece met my ears.

"Amber, she's
waiting"
A man's voice, one I knew – the cove who'd knocked on Okha's door at the place where he worked. "You don't keep the Rogue waiting when she's summoned – "

The breeze whirled away from them and I nearly began to curse. Instead I held myself still and breathed, thinking about naught but the smells in the breezes, just as I have always done. There is always a chance sommat more will come.

" – way. She wants you singing for her court regular, once a week!" It was the cove again. "And she'll pay whatever you like!"

"All the more reason for me to treat her as I will any other paying customer." Okha's woman voice might sound calm to his servant, but to me, hearing as Hesserrr heard, there was a hum of tension under his smooth words. "You think none of them are dangerous, Zander?" Okha asked. "I've done this longer than you've been alive. Trust me."

"What if Nestor finds out?" From his voice, Master Zander didn't like that chance.

Okha's voice was grim when he answered. "He knows the realities of our world. We don't
have
a choice."

The rest vanished, but it did not matter. I listened to the rest of Hesserrr's burden and stepped out of his breezes, filled with awe. Never, in all my days, have I known a spinner who was able to keep so much of a conversation together. I fumbled in my pack and fetched out two other packets of dust from other parts of Corus, all of the new stuff that I had. I opened them with shaking fingers and poured them into Hesserrr's grip in thanks. How old could he be? Older than my Corus spinner, Hasfush, who has lived mayhap for three centuries? I bowed to Hesserrr, not caring if folk passing by saw me and pointed. If they had heard and felt what I did, they would bow, too.

When I went to Achoo, she wriggled and whined until I said,
"Mudah
, all right?" I knelt and scratched her back, telling her that she worried too much. "I've been doing it for years, never mind what happened back at the kennel. That was very unusual. This was unusual, too, but a
good
unusual. Don't fidget, please?"

I hadn't known that Okha sang regular for Pearl Skinner's court. Now that I
did
know, I wanted to see him. If Okha was brave enough to sing for the Rogue, mayhap he would tell me where to find Pearl when she is not here on Eagle Street.

I sought other dust spinners, thanking them with Corus dirt for their bits and pieces as the sun passed through the sky. Achoo fussed, but she eased off as she saw that I was right. I did know what I was doing, and there were no other twisted spinners liked Shhasow. I found little more that was useful to my present hunt and nothing that was as good as the knowledge that Okha visited the Rogue's courts. Not being placed near spots where the port's Rats talked in safety, those spinners mostly trapped words about everyday matters.

I did wonder how Haden and my poor spy managed and what they thought of it all. When I bought pasties for Achoo and me to keep up our strength, I set two on a window ledge where they could grab them as they went by, though I hoped that Haden might be kind and leave both for her.

We made our way up to the square where Vorna had found us only yesterday. There I fed the pigeons while Achoo flirted with a rakish-looking cur. I'd hoped to hear the ghost of the cove who worried that Pearl sent out too many coles, but for some reason he was missing from the flock. There was no way to tell why, either. He might simply have decided he was done with life, and made his way to the Peaceful Realms. I'd heard bits from countless pigeons that turned out just like that.

I went to a bathhouse for a wash after all those talks with dust spinners. Achoo took the order to wait for me in the cloakroom as if I'd sentenced her to death by sorrow. A slave beat the dust from my clothes as I scrubbed all over. While I cleaned up, I watched to see where the slaves came and went. Dressed, my wet hair in a braid again, I collected Achoo. We did
not
leave by the entrance we had used to enter the bathhouse. The Rogue's spy and Haden doubtless waited for us there. Instead we took the slaves' way out of the place. It opened onto a different street from the main entrance, on the far side of the building.

I paid a carter two coppers to hitch a wagon ride. He let us off just a block from Nestor's house. Through our bumpy ride I had not seen any watchers at all, save for an occasional glimpse of Slapper. I was as certain as anyone might be that no one had followed us.

Truda answered Nestor's door, shocked to find me there without Haden. "I'm visiting Okha, if he's in," I told her. "The barbarian watering your flowers is Achoo."

Truda giggled and ran off to tell Okha that he had a visitor. Quickly she returned to let us in. I gave Achoo permission to visit the kitchen with Truda, while I sat and waited for Okha to leave his rooms. When he did, he looked interesting. He wore brown breeches and an ivory linen shirt, like any ordinary cove. The rest was not so ordinary. He had makeup on his eyes, lips, and nails, and gold drops in his ears. He wore gold rings set with amber on two fingers of one hand, an emerald ring and two plain gold rings on the other. He was the very picture of what he was, someone on the border of man and woman.

"What, no Goodwin?" he asked in his man voice.

"She had to take reports to my lord Gershom," I told him. "She'll be back in a couple of days."

Okha smiled. "Poor Hanse will be unhappy. Last night he looked as if he hoped for good things from her, married as she is. Goodwin's just his kind of woman."

"He won't know she's gone," I replied. "Hanse and his crew took a job to Arenaver."

Okha looked at me, then away. "That's right. I'd forgotten. For a man who swore he'd never return home again, he's gone there often, these last six months."

That caught my attention. He'd said nothing of going
home
. "Hanse is from Arenaver?" I asked, as if it interested me only a little.

"No, from a little town on Barony Olau." Okha stood to take a tray with cakes and tea from Truda. "Thank you, dear. What was I saying, Beka?"

I watched Okha place the tray on a small table between more comfortable chairs than the ones at the dining table, the kind they'd keep for company. "You were telling me Hanse came from Barony Olau. Do you know why he left home?" My hand shook a little with excitement. There was my link between Pearl and the silver, between Olau and the silver, if Hanse could be made to talk.

Okha blew on his tea. "He ran off to join the army. It's sad. He did well for years, but... he struck an officer. He was lucky they only flogged him and kicked him out. And he landed on his feet soon enough, building his guard business with Steen and some other friends who left when he did. Why so interested?"

I shrugged. I trust Okha, but it is safer for everyone if I keep what I know to myself. "I like him. He saved Tunstall in the riot, you know. It's too bad Hanse doesn't have a chance with Goodwin, but she and Master Tomlan are like this." I showed Okha my crossed fingers.

Okha smiled. "I know. She flirts well, but she's a one-man woman. Now – what brings you here, Beka? How did you manage to come without Haden at your back? Truda says you're alone but for your hound."

I felt bad about that. I don't want to hurt Haden's pride. "I didn't lose Haden so much as the watcher the Rogue put on me. Haden was just part of it."

Okha lifted his brows. "Why must the Rogue not know you've come to visit me?"

"Because I'd like to know how the Rogue's courts are laid out. Nestor might not know that, but you do," I told him. "You sing for her every week."

Okha put down his teacup, frowning at me. "How in the name of the Crone Goddess did you find that out?
Nestor
doesn't even know it – I've managed to keep
that
secret so far."

I was startled to hear that, but on the other hand, what good would it do Nestor to know? Plainly Okha wasn't given a choice. He
had
to sing for Pearl Skinner. And Nestor would hate it.

"The only way you could handle that news without a fight is not to tell him?" I asked.

"And swear my friends to silence. He would be furious. My hope is that one day I will hear something that he can use to bring this Rogue down," Okha replied, his voice quiet. "That day has not come."

"Will you draw me rough maps?" I asked.

Okha looked at me, his eyes steady. "Beka, what are you up to? You're making me worry."

I shrugged. "I'm keeping myself busy till Goodwin comes back."

Okha's eyes were sharp. "Are you? Beka, the Corus Rogue is a delightful, sane fellow who understands the world. Our Rogue is mad with greed and power and she's stupid. She thinks that no one lives who can stop her."

"It's not my job to stop her," I said firmly. "I collect information, only that. Yes, Pearl will meet her match, but it won't be a junior Dog like me. It'll be the law, resting in the hands of a whole squad of hard, senior Dogs.
Please
, Okha? Tell me what I need to know."