The Banshee's Walk by Frank Tuttle Read Free Book Online Page A

might have been grudging assent or a sign of early pneumonia and sat.
    I tried not to let too much triumph creep into my tone.
    “All packed, Miss?” I asked. “I figure we’ll be there two days, maybe three.”
    “All packed, Mr. Markhat,” said Gertriss. She made no effort to conceal the glee in her voice, and I felt a brief stab of sympathy for Mama, who appeared to be learning that young-uns plucked from the country and given a taste of city life might be harder to keep in wholesome, modest burlap than she’d ever dreamed. “Are we leaving soon?”
    “As soon as we’ve finished eating and I’ve laid out a few things I learned yesterday.” I launched into a retelling of my gallery visit and the interrupted strangling at the Hemp house and my talk with Evis. Mama lost most of her huff and forgot to pretend she wasn’t listening.
    “And that’s all I know right now,” I said, draining the last of my coffee. Gertriss was nodding, taking it all in, and Mama was trying to choke down a hunk of ham so she could speak.
    “People just told you, all that?” Gertriss asked. “You didn’t even ask them much, sounds like.”
    I nodded. “The trick is just to get them talking, most of the time. You come up to a stranger and start hammering them with questions, usually what you’ll get is silence or a blow to the head. Best thing to do is draw them out. Let them decide to show off by telling you something they think you don’t know.”
    Mama guffawed. “Same as with card-readin’,” she said. “Half the time, the real trouble is getting ’em to shut up long enough to say anything yourself.”
    Gertriss tilted her head in question. “Is that what we’ll do at House Werewilk?”
    “That’s part of it,” I said. “We’ll go, we’ll listen. We won’t start pushing until and if we get the lay of the land and haven’t heard anything suggestive in the first day or so. But I’ll handle most of the talking, this time out. I mainly want you to be another set of ears, another set of eyes.”
    “She can do more’n that, boy,” said Mama. “She’s a Hog in more than name. She’s got the Sight, all right, and don’t you forget it.”
    Gertriss rolled her eyes. She stopped herself when she realized she was doing it, and Mama didn’t see, but I did.
    I let it lie, though. Provoking more of Mama’s familial wrath wasn’t what I had in mind for the start of my day.
    So I just nodded sagely. “Noted, Mama,” I said. The light through my door was good and strong, and I had a belly full of ham, and as much as I hate working even I have to admit that’s a good place to start.
    “So what about you, Mama?” I asked. “Got any mystical warnings for us, before we head out? Surely a place called the Banshee’s Walk rates an eldritch utterance or two.”
    Mama snorted. “Boy,” she said, “don’t think I don’t know what goes on in that thick head of yours. I know you pretends you don’t believe a word I say—but I also know he listens,” she added, with a nod at Gertriss. “’Cause he knows my cards can see what others can’t, sometimes.”
    I rose and stretched and yawned. “So spill it, Mama. We need to get moving. Wardmoor is a long way, and part of it on foot.”
    “I seen a sword, boy,” snapped Mama. “Ain’t no ordinary sword, neither. Got magic all around it.”
    “Have you ever seen me carry a sword, Mama?” I asked.
    “I ain’t,” said Mama. “But I reckon you’re carryin’ one now. It’s in your rucksack, ain’t it? I can see it clear from here.”
    I frowned. I hadn’t mentioned Toadsticker, wasn’t going to. Sometimes the best weapon is the hidden one.
    Maybe Mama saw me with it coming home the night before. Or maybe not. “Keep going,” I said. Mama saw my look and shrugged and dropped it.
    “I seen secrets,” she said. “Secrets, and men screaming. Army men. I seen the sky fill with smoke. Fire and death, boy. Lots of it. All around.”
    Gertriss looked at me,