34
The man-sized door in the wagon door wasn't locked. I stepped inside. The place was as dark as a tax man's heart. I listened. I heard nothing but what might have been mice scurrying, then what sounded like a door slamming at the far end of the place.
I eased forward, sliding my feet, feeling the air with my left hand. Far away, I glimpsed a flicker of light above head level. I kept moving cautiously, wishing I had owl's eyes.
I didn't get that wish but I did get light.
A bunch of guys jumped out of nowhere, opening the shutters of lanterns they'd kept well hidden. I counted nine. A tenth, from behind the others, said, "Mr. Garrett. We'd begun to fear you hadn't taken the bait.”
"Sorry I'm late. Had trouble with tardiness all my life.”
Weapons appeared. My sense of humor wasn't going to play with this crowd.
"If I'd known it was that kind of party I'd have dressed.”
I had no idea how I'd be affected myself, but I let loose with my green bottle.
I reacted the same as everyone else. In three seconds I not only didn't know where I was or why I was there, but I wasn't too sure who I was. I couldn't move in a straight line. I tried—and hung a left and walked into a stack of crates. They were empty. I kept going. The whole pile came down on top of me.
That was one to brag to the grandkids about.
I tried to fight the crates, but they were too quick. So I just gave up and let them have their way with me.
I would have taken a nap except a bunch of people kept yelling at some guy called Garrett and I couldn't get to sleep for all the racket.
Somebody dug me out of the pile. Two of my angels stood me up while another popped me in the face. That didn't help a whole lot.
The other two started tying guys up. There were girls all over the place, looking for something portable and valuable. I got my tongue untangled. "Maya.”
Kids started running around yelling, "Maya!”
Guys yakked about getting hold of some guy named Chodo, they could sell him their prisoners for a fortune. I seemed to remember them as angels. They didn't sound very angelic.
My head began to clear. "I'm all right now, guys. You don't need to hold me up.”
Wedge snapped, "What the hell kind of stunt was that, Garrett? Walking into a trap you knew was there.”
"Had to make something happen." I wasn't going to admit the ambush had been a surprise to me, too. Anyway, I figured it would not be smart to brag that I'd wanted to make them come in the warehouse after me. They might not appreciate that.
They grumbled and let me go. I picked up a lantern and tottered back into the warehouse, following shouting girls.
Maya was in a loft office all the way back, above another double-ugly homemade temple. She was tied up enough for four kids. She looked a little shopworn, with bruises and abrasions that said she hadn't been a cooperative prisoner.
I didn't find her. The girls got there first. They were slicing her out of her cocoon when I arrived. But I got the credit. "Garrett! I knew you'd come.”
"Had to, Maya. When somebody does something to a guy's partner, a guy is supposed to do something about it.”
She squealed and stumbled at me.
Some females can't tell a wisecrack from a marriage proposal. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, kid, but maybe you ought to stand downwind till we get you next to some soap and water.”
"We can throw her in the river, Garrett," Tey suggested.
Maya glared green death. Tey glared back. There was no love lost between those two. I asked, "How many got away?”
"None." Tey snapped it. "They were all waiting for you except one. They have him out back.”
"Good. Can you walk, Maya? We can't hang around. These guys have friends who'll check up on them. Not to mention the Doom is way off its turf.”
"You're not going to ask those guys questions?”
"If I was to set an ambush I wouldn't use guys that could tell anybody if they blew it. And these guys are making a career of screwing up. You think any of them can tell me anything you didn't pick up while you were their guest?”
She admitted it was unlikely. "They were a bunch of farmers before they came to TunFaire. They don't know spit from dog doo. They're just trying to do what their wacko god wants." But she wanted to get back at somebody.
"Kick somebody in the ribs on the way. Come on. We've got to go. Thank Tey for helping find you. She didn't have to.”
Maya did, but not very graciously. She must have felt threatened. When you're a chuko, you have to prove yourself everyday.
There wasn't anyone for her to kick. Wedge had decided reinforcements were likely to arrive so he and his buddies had made sure they'd collect whatever bounties Chodo had put on those guys.
Maya looked bad when we hit the street. I said, "I told you Wedge wasn't nice people.”
"Yeah." After we walked a while, she said, "Men like that Wedge, they're a whole different kind of bad, aren't they? People like my stepfather … He was cruel, but I don't think he could've killed a dog. That Wedge did it like it was nothing.”
Chukos put a lot of value on being tough. And a lot of them are hard, nasty little critters—especially in front of an audience. Some are dead losses at thirteen. But some still have the kid in there somewhere behind the defenses, and that kid wants to believe there's some point to living. Maya still contained that hidden child. And it wanted some reassurance.
"Who do you think does the most real harm?" I asked, thinking maybe anybody else was better qualified for this. "The emotional cripple who tries to cripple people who can't protect themselves? Or the emotionally dead killer like Wedge who basically doesn't bother anybody but them that asked for it?”
That wasn't saying what I wanted to say the best way. Maybe there were big holes in it, but there was plenty of truth, too. The hurt a creep like her old man did lasts a lifetime. It gets passed on to the next generation. Wedge's kind of hurt is flashy but it doesn't last. And it doesn't eat up kids who can't fight back.
I didn't like Wedge. I didn't like what he was. He probably didn't have much use for me but I'd bet he'd agree.
Anyway, I knew what I was saying. And Maya seemed to get the message. "Garrett …”
"Never mind. We'll talk when we get home. The bad time is over.”
Sure it was. You smooth talker, Garrett. Now try and convince yourself.
Dean fussed over Maya like he was her mother. I didn't get a chance to talk to her. The sun was coming up, so I said the hell with it and went to bed.