Book 2 - Shadows Linger by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page B

work in the
Buskin. Shed’s only bit of good fortune was Asa. Asa brought
wood whenever he got away from Krage, in a pathetic effort to buy a
friend. Asa arrived with a load. Privately, he said, “Better
watch out, Shed. Krage heard about you borrowing from
Gilbert.” Shed went grey. “He’s got a buyer for
the Lily lined up. They’re rounding up girls
already.”
    Shed nodded. The whoremasters recruited desperate women this
time of year. By the time summer brought its sailors, they were
broken to their trade.
    “The bastard. Made me think he’d given me a break. I
should have known better. This way he gets my money and my place.
The bastard.”
    “Well, I warned you.”
    “Yeah. Thanks, Asa.” Shed’s next due date came
on like a juggernaut. Gilbert refused him another loan. Smaller
creditors besieged the Lily. Krage was aiming them Shed’s
way.
    He took Raven a complimentary drink. “May I sit?”
    A
hint of a smile crossed Raven’s lips. “It’s your
place.” And: “You haven’t been friendly lately.
Shed.”
    “I’m nervous,” Shed lied. Raven irritated his
conscience. “Worried about my debts.”
    Raven saw through
the excuse. “You thought maybe I could help?”
    Shed
almost groaned. “Yes.”
    Raven laughed softly. Shed thought he detected a note of
triumph. “All right, Shed. Tonight?”
    Shed pictured his mother being carted off by the Custodians. He
swallowed his self-disgust. “Yeah.”
    “All right. But this time you’re a helper, not a
partner.” Shed swallowed and nodded. “Put the old woman
to bed, then come back downstairs. Understand?”
    “Yes,” Shed whispered.
    “Good. Now go away. You irritate me.”
    “Yes, sir.” Shed retreated. He couldn’t look
anyone in the eye the rest of that day.
    A bitter wind howled down the Port valley, freckled with flakes
of snow. Shed huddled miserably, the wagon seat a bar of ice
beneath him. The weather was worsening. “Why tonight?”
he grumbled.
    “Best time.” Raven’s teeth chattered.
“We’re not likely to be seen.” He turned into
Chandler’s Lane, off which innumerable narrow alleyways ran.
“Good hunting territory here. In this weather they crawl back
in the alleys and die like flies.”
    Shed shivered. He was too old for this. But that was why he was
here. So he wouldn’t have to face the weather every
night.
    Raven stopped the wagon. “Check that
passageway.”
    Shed’s feet started aching the instant he put weight on
them. Good. At least he felt something. They weren’t
frozen.
    There was little light in the alley. He searched more by feel
than sight. He found one lump under an overhang, but it stirred and
muttered. He ran.
    He reached the wagon as Raven dumped something into the bed.
Shed averted his eyes. The boy couldn’t have been more than
twelve. Raven concealed the body with straw. “That’s
one. Night like this, we ought to find a load.”
    Shed choked his protests, resumed his seat. He thought about his
mother. She wouldn’t last one night in this.
    Next alley he found his first corpse. The old man had fallen and
frozen because he couldn’t get up again. Aching in his
soul, Shed dragged the body to the wagon.
    “Going to be a good night,” Raven observed.
“No competition. The Custodians won’t come out in
this.” Softly: “I hope we can make the hill.”
    Later, after they had moved to the waterfront and each had found
another corpse, Shed asked, “Why’re you doing
this?”
    “I need money, too. Got a long way to travel. This way I
get a lot, fast, without much risk.”
    Shed thought the risks far greater than Raven would admit. They
could be torn apart. “You’re not from Juniper, are
you?”
    “From the south. A shipwrecked sailor.”
    Shed did not believe it. Raven’s accent was not at all
right for that, mild though it was. He hadn’t the nerve to
call the man a liar, though, and press for the truth.
    The conversation continued by fits and starts. Shed didn’t
uncover anything