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here somehow, too. I'm pretty sure." Seeing those centaurs had convinced me.
Organized, disciplined, military centaurs always have something to do with
Glory Mooncalled. No other commander had ever been able to to hold their
attention long enough to sell them on the military virtues. No other captain
ever got them to fight for ideas instead of money or plunder.
Pular Singe eased into the room diffidently. I wondered what had become of
Fenibro. Maybe she'd decided she could get along without the boyfriend. I had
yet to see her affliction handicap her very much. "The watchers have followed
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the parcel of clothing." She spoke slowly and carefully. Her diction was the
equal of Fenibro's. She was proud of herself. "I will have no trouble tracking
any but one. One leaves no trail at all."
I frowned at Morley. He shrugged. Belinda said, "It shouldn't take them long
to figure out that Puddle doesn't have Garrett's bones in that sack."
"Point taken. Can you walk, Garrett?"
"In circles."
Pular Singe said, "The one who leaves no trail is like the one who pretended
to be . . . " She pointed at me. "That one had no scent, either."
Interesting. Could that be a way to detect changers? Add a ratman to your
bodyguard?
89
"Who had a chance to plant something on you?" Morley asked. We were headed
toward Playmate's for real. Dotes was the only one of us walking normally. At
a glance we must have looked like beggars. I was dressed the part.
The clothes I'd been wearing lately all came from the Weider place. All Tad's
stuff. Could have been anyone there though the list of suspects that occurred
to me was very short. And it had to be somebody at the Weider mansion. Nowhere
else had anyone had a chance to get to all the clothes. And only a few people
there had known I was getting them.
The actual mechanics did not interest me much. Somewhere in each pair of
trousers, perhaps, would be a scrap of paper or a loose button with a spell
attached. I could round up a dozen half-baked hedge wizards in an hour who
would sell me something similar for enough to buy a bottle of wine. There
would be some gimmick like an enchanted tuning fork or a feather floating in a
bowl of mineral oil that would point at me all the time.
"It's starting to come together," I said. "I don't know who or why but I'm
beginning to sniff out a how."
"Well?" Morley asked after I failed to go on.
I turned to Pular Singe. "Singe. The parade following me . . . following
Puddle and my stuff. Was the shapeshifter the one who was actually on my
trail, with everyone else following him?"
Singe had to think about it. Although she was intensely interested, she
hadn't been included in on everything so wasn't sure what mattered. Also, some
of what she had was human stuff that made little sense to ratfolk, anyway.
"The one who had no scent. Yes."
Morley asked, "What's that look mean, Garrett?"
"It means the haze is clearing. The clothes were marked so I could be tracked
and watched. By shapeshifters. The clothes were delivered straight from the
Weider place. Before the engagement party. But there were no shapeshifters
inside the house before the party preparations began. Belinda. You promise me
you didn't have anything to do with the attack on Marengo North English?"
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"I promise, darling. Cross my heart and hope to die. Though I would've done
it if it needed doing."
"Does that extend to all his crackpot pals? The human rights movement lost
several big names."
"I'd reached an understanding with those people. They would stay off our
turf. They hadn't had time to violate it. I'm sure they would've gotten around
to it, though."
"Not even using Crask and Sadler?"
"I'm not as hotheaded as you think, Garrett. I considered that. I decided
that the Marengo I met thought too much of himself and his prejudices to have
hired those two. He'd use his own people. I suspect that argument holds for
other rightsists chieftains as well. First try, at least."
I recalled Tama telling me they were having trouble finding a librarian
because Marengo and the other big fish were reluctant to pay actual wages. I
muttered, "That fits."
"What does?"
"Singe. How would you go about tracking the one who leaves no scent?" I added
deaf sign so we were sure to meet on a common border between our languages.
Pular Singe was a serious young woman, determined to get the most out of the
abilities she had. She would go far if she remained motivated. Desire and
determination do seem as important as raw talent in this world. She thought
hard. "I would track those who follow it. The sight-hunters. If they do not
give up that when they discover that you have outwitted it."
I hadn't outwitted anybody but myself lately. Didn't seem to be much point in
reminding Singe, though.
Morley and Belinda both sneered at me when Singe was looking the other way.
Friends always have to get those little digs in, just to let you know they
love you. The evidence suggests that the whole world loves me.
"No point me hiding out at Playmate's," I said. "If they've done any digging
into my background, they'll know we're friends. I'll go to the Weider place."
I'd abandoned hope of getting back to The Pipes. It was getting dark. "Singe .
. . Where'd she go?"
"Off to tail your tail, probably," Morley said.
"She's infatuated, Garrett," Belinda chided. "It happens to a lot of women
when they first meet you. This one's still at that stage where she'll do any
damn fool thing to make you like her back. Give her a week. Reality will catch
up."
They both had a good snicker. So did something on a windowsill two stories
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