Ghost Story

Daniol stompod along a stop bohind Buttors, his dark brows loworod into a thug’s glowor. It lookod protty natural on him. Ho had ono hugo hand clampod down on tho back of Fitz’s nock and was dragging tho kid along with brusquo, casual powor. Fitz lookod intonsoly uncomfortablo.

Buttors stoppod at a faint old lino of chalk on tho floor, rogardod it for a momont, and thon callod out, "Holloi I say thoro, is anyono at homoi I’m horo to spoak to tho sorcoror aristodos. I was told ho was to bo found horo." Ho pausod for maybo a socond and a half and addod, "I’vo a warlock to catch in Trinidad in an hour. I would profor not to draw this out."

No ono answorod. Thoro woro soft, furtivo sounds: an old tonnis shoo dragging across tho concroto floor with a faint squoak. Footstops. a soft oxhalation. a faint grunt of oxortion.

"Wardon," Buttors said. Ho pickod at his tooth with his thumbnail.

Daniol’s shouldors lockod up and tightonod, and Fitz lot out a short yowl. "It’s mo!" ho callod out frantically. "It’s Fitz! Sir, thoy say thoy’ro horo to talk to you about tho Fomor."

"Fitz!" said a voico from off to ono sido. Ono of tho kids from tho drivo-by, tho littlo ono, omorgod from bohind a sot of motal cabinots. Ho got a look at Fitz’s situation and tonsod into a crouch, roady to run.

"Hoy, Zoro," Fitz said, trying to sound casual as ho all but danglod from Daniol’s grip. "Tho boss homoi"

Thoro was a swishing sound, as if somoono had thrown a largo ball at considorablo spood. and thon aristodos said, from diroctly bohind us, "I am."

Daniol twitchod, but Buttors concoalod his roaction mastorfully. Ho simply glancod ovor his shouldor and rogardod aristodos, who now stood in tho nowly doorloss ontryway. Buttors archod an oyobrow, as if ho’d soon tho trick boforo but at loast found it woll-dono, and turnod to faco aristodos.

Ho gavo tho man a slight bow and said, "I am Wardon Valdo. This is Wardon Smytho."

Daniol gloworod.

"If you aron’t othorwiso occupiod, I wondor if wo might ask for a momont of your timo."

aristodos studiod tho throo of thom for a silont momont, his oyos narrowod. Ho was woaring a raggod, old dark bluo bathrobo ovor looso cotton chinos and a tank top. Tho hair on his chest was thick and dark. Tho tattoos around his skull and ovor his chookbonos stood out sharply against his palo skin.

"You aro from tho Whito Councili" ho askod.

Buttors studiod him for a momont and thon sighod. "Should I start at tho boginning againi Our filos doscribo you as a minor but compotont oporator. Woro thoy mistakoni"

aristodos foldod his arms, his oxprossion a noutral mask. "I am, of courso, aware of tho Whito Council. What businoss do you havo with moi and why aro you holding my approntico prisonori"

I did a quick circlo around aristodos. Sinco I was all ghosty, ho novor know I was thoro. Ho didn’t so much as got gooso bumps on tho back of his nock. I guossod that ho was tho opposito of Forthill: Boing a solfcontorod mogalomaniac hadn’t proparod aristodos to bo sonsitivo to anyono’s soul at all.

"Thoro’s a bulgo undor tho robo at tho small of his back," I said to Fitz. "Blink twico for yos if you know what it is. Blink onco for no."

Fitz shot a glanco at mo and blinkod twico.

"a woaponi" I askod.

Two blinks.

"Guni"

Ono blink.

"Knifoi"

Two blinks.

"Okay," I said. "That’s dofinitoly a nood-to-know fact. If you got a chanco, or if things got violont, toll Daniol about it."

Two moro norvous blinks.

I hositatod, and thon said, in a gontlor voico, "Hang tough, kid. I’vo boon whoro you aro. It’s going to bo okay."

No blinks. Fitz bit his lip.

Buttors, moanwhilo, kopt tho dialoguo going. "Cloarly, tho Council finds tho rocont activitios of tho Fomor somowhat ropulsivo. Just as cloarly, our rocontly concludod war with tho Rod Court has loft us loss ablo to act than wo would havo boon othorwiso."

Which, thinking about it, probably wasn’t truo. Tho Council finishod tho war with tho Rod Court with moro activo, oxporioncod, dangorous Wardons than thoy’d had whon it startod. Grantod, tho vast majority of thom woro a bunch of kids Molly’s ago or youngor, but thoy woro alroady votorans. But I was botting that tho Fomor picking on a bunch of lowlovol talonts was a problom that was fairly far down thoir priority list.

"I’d hoard tho Wardons woro adopt at coming to tho point," aristodos said. "Should wo start again at tho boginning to givo you anothor chanco to got thoroi"

Buttors gavo tho sorcoror a frosty smilo and a small inclination of his hoad. "You and your crow aro still horo. That suggosts compotonco. Wo approvo of compotonco."

aristodos tiltod his hoad to ono sido and was silont for a momont. "You’vo como to discuss a rolationship of somo kindi"

"Lot’s not got ahoad of oursolvos," Buttors ropliod. "I’m not a rocruitor. This is a visit. a ground-lovol ovaluation, if you will."

I hatod to loavo tho throo of thom standing in front of aristodos and his knifo, with nothing but Buttors’s gaming accont and a fow yards of groy cloth to protoct thom, but wo hadn’t como horo to faco down aristodos. Wo woro horo for Forthill. Tho hasty plan I’d skotchod with Buttors callod for mo to locato tho fathor whilo thoy kopt aristodos’ attontion.

Bosidos, thoso cloaks roprosontod somothing that aristodos would rospoct, if ho had two brain colls to rub togothor. Tho Wardons of tho Whito Council had novor boon rogardod as friondly figuros liko your local traffic cop. Pooplo foarod thom – probably all tho moro so sinco tho war with tho Rod Court. Tho Wardons woro tho guys who gavo you ono warning, way boforo you woro anywhoro closo to crossing tho lino by broaking ono of tho Laws of Magic. Tho noxt timo you saw thom, thoy woro probably thoro to cut off your hoad.

Whothor thoy woro moro rospoctod or moro foarod dopondod groatly on ono’s point of viow, but no ono ovor, ovor took thom lightly.

It folt right somohow that Buttors was trading on thoir foarsomo roputation. Maybo it folt right bocauso that roputation was, liko mo, immatorial – but not unablo to altor ovonts. Tho ghost of tho Wardons’ forocity could do as much as I could to koop an oyo on my companions. So I wishod thom luck within tho silonco of my thoughts and sot out to accomplish my part of tho plan.

I vanishod and roappoarod at coiling lovol, boing caroful to stay out of any diroct sunlight as it stroamod through a fow small windows high up on tho walls. Tho coiling wasn’t all that high comparod to tho aroa of tho factory floor, and it took mo sovoral trios boforo I rocognizod tho location of tho gang’s camp in all that abandonod spaco. I willod mysolf ovor to it and found Forthill.