Raker Read Free Page B

have heard those are the voices of all the people whose souls Soulcatcher has caught.
    Bolder than my wont, I volunteered for the expedition. I wanted to see how Raker could be taken with hair and a block of limestone. The Limper had failed with all his furious power.
    The Captain thought about it. "Okay, Croaker. One-Eye and Goblin. You, Elmo. And pick two more."
    "That's seven, Captain."
    "Raven makes eight."
    "Oh. Raven. Of course."
    Of course. Quiet, deadly Raven would be the Captain's alter ego. There is a bond between those men which surpasses understanding. It is a more than brothers thing.... Guess it bothers me because Raven scares the hell out of me. More than do the Taken.
    Soulcatcher strikes me as an ancestral Raven. They are of a size, and Raven has that same air of the ice-hearted and impassive.
    Raven caught the Captain's eye. His right eyebrow rose. The Captain replied with a ghost of a nod. Raven twitched a shoulder. What was the message? I could not guess.
    Something unusual was in the wind. Those in the know found it delicious. Though I could not guess what it was, I knew it would be slick and nasty.

VII
    The storm broke. Soon the Roses road was open. Soulcatcher fretted. Raker had two weeks' start. It would take us a week to reach Roses. One-Eye's planted tales might lose their efficacy before we arrived.
    We left before dawn, the limestone block aboard a wagon. The wizards had done little but carve out a modest cavity the size of a large melon. I could not fathom its value. One-Eye and Goblin fussed over it like a groom over a new bride. One-Eye answered my questions with big grins. Bastard.
    The weather held fair. Warm winds blew out of the south. We encountered long stretches of muddy road. And I witnessed an outrageous phenomenon. Soulcatcher got down in the mud and dragged that wagon with the rest of us. That great lord of the empire.
    Roses is the queen city of the Salient, a teeming sprawl, a free city, a republic. The Lady hasn't seen fit to revoke its traditional autonomy. The world needs places where men of all stripes and stations can step outside the usual strictures.
    So. Roses. Owning no master. Filled with agents and spies and those who live on the dark side of the law. In that environment, One-Eye claimed, his scheme had to prosper.
    Roses' red walls loomed over us, dark as old blood in the light of the setting sun, when we arrived.

VIII
    Goblin ambled into the room we had taken. "I found the place," he squeaked at One-Eye.
    "Good."
    Curious. They had not exchanged a cross word in weeks. Usually an hour without a squabble was a miracle.
    Soulcatcher shifted in the shadowed corner where he remained planted like a lean black bush, a crowd softly debating with itself. "Go on."
    "It's an old public square. A dozen alleys and streets going in and out. Poorly lighted at night. No reason for any traffic after dark."
    "Sounds perfect," One-Eye said.
    "It is. I rented a room overlooking it."
    "Let's take a look," Elmo said. We all suffered from cabin fever. An exodus started. Only Soulcatcher stayed put. Perhaps he understood our need to get away.
    Goblin was right about the square, apparently. "So what?" I asked. One-Eye grinned. I snapped, "Clam-lips! Play games."
    "Tonight?" Goblin asked.
    "I'm getting frustrated," I announced. "What's going on? All you clowns do is play cards and watch Raven sharpen his knives." That went on for hours at a time, the movement of whetstone across steel sending chills down my spine. It was an omen. Raven doesn't do that unless he expects things to get nasty.
    One-Eye made a sound like a cawling crow.

IX
    We rolled the wagon at midnight. The stablekeeper called us madmen. One-Eye gave him one of his famous grins. He drove. The rest of us walked, surrounding the wagon.
    There had been changes. Something had been added. Someone had incised the stone with a message. One-Eye, probably, during one of his unexplained forays out of quarters.
    Bulky leather sacks and a