Shed grew increasingly frightened as the days passed. He had to
get some money. Krage was spreading the word. He was to be made an
example.
He recognized the tactic. Krage wanted to scare him into signing
the Lily over. The place wasn’t much, but it was damned sure
worth more than he owed. Krage would resell it for several times
his investment. Or turn it into whore cribs. And Marron Shed and
his mother would be in the streets, with winter’s deadly
laughter howling in their faces.
Kill somebody, Krage had said. Rob somebody. Shed considered
both. He would do anything to keep the Lily and protect his
mother.
If he could just get real customers! He got nothing but
one-night chiselers and scroungers. He needed residential regulars.
But he could not get those without fixing the place up. And that he
couldn’t do without money.
Asa rolled through the doorway. Pale and frightened, he scuttled
to the counter. “Find a wood supply yet?” Shed
asked.
The little man shook his head, slid two gersh across the
counter. “Give me a drink.”
Shed scooped the coins into his box. One did not question
money’s provenance. It had no memory. He poured a full
measure. Asa reached eagerly.
“Oh, no,” Shed said. “Tell me about
it.”
“Come on, Shed. I paid you.”
“Sure. And I’ll deliver when you tell me why
you’re so rocky.”
“Where’s that Raven?”
“Upstairs. Sleeping.” Raven had been out all
night.
Asa shook a little more. “Give me that, Shed.”
“Talk.”
“All right. Krage and Red grabbed me. They wanted to know
about Raven.”
So Shed knew how Asa had come by money. He had tried to sell
Raven. “Tell me more.”
“They just wanted to know about him.”
“What did they want to know?”
“If he ever goes out.”
“Why?”
Asa stalled. Shed pulled the mug away. “All right. They
had two men watching him. They disappeared. Nobody knows anything.
Krage is furious.” Shed let him have the wine. He drained it
in a single gulp.
Shed glanced toward the stair, shuddered. Maybe he had
underestimated Raven. “What did Krage say about
me?”
“Sure could use another mug, Shed.”
“I’ll give you a mug. Over the noggin.”
“I don’t need you, Shed. I made a connection. I can
sleep over to Krage’s any time I want.”
Shed grunted, made a mask of his face. “You win.” He
poured wine.
“He’s going to put you out of business, Shed.
Whatever it takes. He’s decided you’re in it with
Raven.” Wicked little smile. “Only he can’t
figure where you got the guts to buck him.”
“I’m not. I don’t have anything to do with
Raven, Asa. You know that.”
Asa enjoyed his moment. “I tried to tell Krage, Shed. He didn’t want to hear it.”
“Drink your wine and get out, Asa.”
“Shed?” The old whine filled Asa’s voice.
“You heard me. Out. Back to your new friends. See how long
they have a use for you.”
“Shed! . . . ”
“They’ll throw you back into the street, Asa. Right
beside me and Mom. Git, you bloodsucker.”
Asa downed his wine and fled, shoulders tight against his neck.
He had tasted the truth of Shed’s words. His association with
Krage would be fragile and brief.
Shed tried to warn Raven. Raven ignored him. Shed polished mugs,
watched Raven chatter with Darling in the utter silence of sign
language, and tried to imagine some way of making a hit in the
upper city. Usually he spent these early hours eying Darling and
trying to imagine a way to gain access, but lately sheer terror of
the street had abolished his customary randiness.
A cry like that of a hog with a cut throat came from upstairs.
“Mother!” Shed took the stairs two steps at a time.
His mother stood in the doorway of the big bunkroom, panting.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“There’s a dead man in there.”
Shed’s heart fluttered. He pushed into the room. An old
man lay in the bottom right bunk inside the door.
There had been only four bunkroom customers last night. Six
gersh a head. The room was six feet wide and twelve long, with
twenty-four platforms stacked six high. When the room was full,
Shed charged two gersh to sleep leaning on a rope stretched down
the middle.
Shed touched the old-timer. His skin was cold. He had been gone
for hours.
“Who was he?” old June asked.
“I don’t know.” Shed probed his ragged
clothing. He found four gersh and an iron ring. “Damn!”
He could not take that. The Custodians would be suspicious if they
found nothing. “We’re jinxed. This is our fourth stiff
this year.”
“It’s the customers, son. They have one foot in the
Catacombs already.”
Shed spat. “I’d better send for the
Custodians.”
A voice said, “He’s waited this long, let him wait a
little longer.”
Shed whirled. Raven and Darling stood behind his mother.
“What?”
“He might be the answer to your problems,” Raven
said. And immediately Darling began flashing signs so fast Shed
could not catch one in twenty. Evidently she was telling Raven not
to do something. Raven ignored her.
Old June snapped, “Shed!” Her voice was heavy with
admonition.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll handle it. Go ahead
with your work.” June was blind, but when her health
permitted, she dumped the slops and handled what passed for maid
service—mainly dusting beds between guests to kill fleas and lice.
When her health confined her to bed, Shed brought in his cousin
Wally, a ne’er-do-well like Asa, but with a wife and kids.
Shed used him out of pity for the wife.
He headed downstairs. Raven followed, still arguing with
Darling. Momentarily, Shed wondered if Raven was diddling her. Be a
damned waste of fine womanflesh if someone wasn’t.
How could a dead man with four gersh get him out from under
Krage? Answer: He could not. Not legitimately.
Raven settled onto his usual stool. He scattered a handful of
copper. “Wine. Buy yourself a mug, too.”
Shed collected the coins, deposited them in his box. Its contents
were pitiful. He wasn’t making expenses. He was doomed. His
debt to Krage could miraculously be discharged and still he’d
be doomed.
He deposited a mug before Raven, seated himself on a stool. He
felt old beyond his years, and infinitely weary.
“Tell me.”
“The old man. Who was he? Who were his people?”
Shed
shrugged. “Just somebody who wanted to get out of the cold.
The Buskin is full of them.”
“So it is.”
Shed shuddered at Raven’s tone. “Are you proposing
what I think?”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know. What use is a corpse? I mean, even
the Custodians only stuff them in the Catacombs.”
“Suppose there was a buyer?”
“I’ve been supposing that.”
“And?”
“What would I have to do?” His voice barely carried
across the table. He could imagine no more disgusting crime. Even
the least of the city’s dead were honored above the living. A
corpse was a holy object. The Enclosure was Juniper’s
epicenter.
“Very little. Late tonight, have the body at the back
door. You could do that?”
Shed nodded weakly.
“Good. Finish your wine.”
Shed downed it in a gulp. He drew another mug, polished his
stoneware industriously. It was a bad dream. It would go away.
The corpse seemed almost weightless, but Shed had difficulty
negotiating the stairs. He had drunk too much. He eased through the
shadowed common, stepping with exaggerated care. The people
clustered near the fireplace looked demonic in the sullen red of
the last coals.
One of the old man’s feet toppled a pot as Shed entered
the kitchen. He froze. Nothing happened. His heartbeat gradually
slowed. He kept reminding himself that he was doing this so his
mother would not have to freeze on winter streets.
He thumped the door with his knee. It swung inward immediately.
A shadow hissed, “Hurry up,” and seized the old
man’s feet, helped Shed heave it into a wagon.
Panting, terrified, Shed croaked, “What now?”
“Go to bed. You get your share in the morning.”
Shed’s relieved sigh nearly became tears. “How
much?” he gasped.
“A third.”
“Only a third?”
“I’m taking all the risk. You’re safe
already.”
“All right. How much would it be?”
“The market varies.” Raven turned away. Shed closed
the door, leaned against it with closed eyes. What had he done?
He built up the fire and went to bed, lay listening to his
mother’s snores. Had she guessed? Maybe she wouldn’t.
The Custodians often waited for night. He would tell her she had
slept through everything.
He could not sleep. Who knew about the death? If word got out,
people would wonder. They would begin to suspect the
unsuspectable.
What if Raven got caught? Would the Inquisitors make him talk?
Bullock could make a stone sing.
He watched his mother all next morning. She did not speak except
in monosyllables, but that was her custom.
Raven appeared shortly after noon. “Tea and a bowl of
porridge, Shed.” When he paid, he did not shove copper across
the counter.
Shed’s eye widened. Ten silver leva lay before him. Ten?
For one dead old man? That was a third? And Raven had done this
before? He must be rich. Shed’s palms grew moist. His mind
howled after potential crimes.
“Shed?” Raven said softly when he delivered the tea
and porridge. “Don’t even think about it.”
“What?”
“Don’t think what you’re thinking. You would
end up in the wagon.”
Darling scowled at them from the kitchen doorway. For a moment
Raven seemed embarrassed.
Shed slunk into the hostel where Krage held court. From the
outside the place was as crummy as the Lily. Timidly, he looked for
Count, tried to ignore Asa. Count would not torment him for fun.
“Count, I need to see Krage.”
Count opened big brown
cow eyes. “Why?”
“I brought him some money. On account.”
Count heaved
himself upright. “All right. Wait here.”
He stalked off.
Asa sidled up. “Where’d you get the money.
Shed?”
“Where do you get yours, Asa?” Asa did not
answer.
“It isn’t polite to ask. Mind your own business or
stay away from me.”
“Shed, I thought we were friends.”
“I tried to be friends, Asa. I even let you have a place
to sleep. And as soon as you hooked up with
Krage . . . ”
A shadow crossed Asa’s face. “I’m sorry, Shed.
You know me. I don’t think so fast. I do dumb
things.”
Shed snorted. So Asa had come to the inevitable conclusion:
Krage would dump him once he settled with Raven.
Shed was tempted to betray Raven. The man had to have a fortune
hidden. But he was afraid of a thousand things, and his guest stood
at the top of the list.
Asa said, “I found a way to get deadwood from the
Enclosure.” His face brightened in pathetic appeal.
“Mostly pine, but it’s wood.”
“The Enclosure?”
“It’s not illegal, Shed. It keeps the Enclosure
cleaned up.”
Shed scowled righteously.
“Shed, it’s less wrong than going through
somebody’s . . . ”
Shed controlled his anger. He needed allies inside the enemy
camp. “Firewood could be like money, Asa. No
provenance.”
Asa smiled fawningly. “Thanks, Shed.”
Count called, “Shed.”
Shed shook as he crossed the room. Krage’s men
smirked.
This wouldn’t work. Krage wouldn’t listen. He was
going to throw his money away.
“Count says you’ve got something to give me on
account,” Krage said.
“Uhm.” Krage’s den could have been ripped
whole from a mansion high up the wall of the valley. Shed was
stunned.
“Stop gawking and get on with it. You’d better not
give me a handful of copper and beg for an extension, either.
Picked a warm doorway yet? Your payments are a joke,
Shed.”
“No joke. Mr. Krage. Honest. I can pay over half of
it.”
Krage’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting.” Shed
laid nine silver leva before him. “Very interesting.”
He fixed Shed with a penetrating stare.
Shed stammered, “That’s over half, counting
interest. I hoped maybe seeing as how that would put me
ahead . . . ”
“Quiet.” Shed shut up. “You think I should
forget what happened?”
“That wasn’t my fault, Mr. Krage. I didn’t
tell him to . . . You don’t know what
Raven is like.”
“Shut up.” Krage stared at the coins. “Maybe
something can be arranged. I know you didn’t put him up to
it. You don’t have the guts.”
Shed stared at the floor, unable to deny his cowardice.
“Okay, Shed. You’re a regular client. Back to the
regular schedule.” He eyed the money. “You’re
ahead three weeks, looks like.”
“Thank you, Mr. Krage. Really. You don’t know how
much this means . . . ”
“Shut up. I know exactly what it means. Get out. Start
getting another payment together. This is your last
reprieve.”
“Yes. sir.” Shed retreated. Count opened the
door.
“Shed! I may want something sometime. A favor for a favor.
Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. Go.”
Shed left, a sinking feeling replacing relief. Krage would make
him help get Raven. He almost wept as he tramped homeward. It never
got any better. He was always in a trap.
Shed grew increasingly frightened as the days passed. He had to
get some money. Krage was spreading the word. He was to be made an
example.
He recognized the tactic. Krage wanted to scare him into signing
the Lily over. The place wasn’t much, but it was damned sure
worth more than he owed. Krage would resell it for several times
his investment. Or turn it into whore cribs. And Marron Shed and
his mother would be in the streets, with winter’s deadly
laughter howling in their faces.
Kill somebody, Krage had said. Rob somebody. Shed considered
both. He would do anything to keep the Lily and protect his
mother.
If he could just get real customers! He got nothing but
one-night chiselers and scroungers. He needed residential regulars.
But he could not get those without fixing the place up. And that he
couldn’t do without money.
Asa rolled through the doorway. Pale and frightened, he scuttled
to the counter. “Find a wood supply yet?” Shed
asked.
The little man shook his head, slid two gersh across the
counter. “Give me a drink.”
Shed scooped the coins into his box. One did not question
money’s provenance. It had no memory. He poured a full
measure. Asa reached eagerly.
“Oh, no,” Shed said. “Tell me about
it.”
“Come on, Shed. I paid you.”
“Sure. And I’ll deliver when you tell me why
you’re so rocky.”
“Where’s that Raven?”
“Upstairs. Sleeping.” Raven had been out all
night.
Asa shook a little more. “Give me that, Shed.”
“Talk.”
“All right. Krage and Red grabbed me. They wanted to know
about Raven.”
So Shed knew how Asa had come by money. He had tried to sell
Raven. “Tell me more.”
“They just wanted to know about him.”
“What did they want to know?”
“If he ever goes out.”
“Why?”
Asa stalled. Shed pulled the mug away. “All right. They
had two men watching him. They disappeared. Nobody knows anything.
Krage is furious.” Shed let him have the wine. He drained it
in a single gulp.
Shed glanced toward the stair, shuddered. Maybe he had
underestimated Raven. “What did Krage say about
me?”
“Sure could use another mug, Shed.”
“I’ll give you a mug. Over the noggin.”
“I don’t need you, Shed. I made a connection. I can
sleep over to Krage’s any time I want.”
Shed grunted, made a mask of his face. “You win.” He
poured wine.
“He’s going to put you out of business, Shed.
Whatever it takes. He’s decided you’re in it with
Raven.” Wicked little smile. “Only he can’t
figure where you got the guts to buck him.”
“I’m not. I don’t have anything to do with
Raven, Asa. You know that.”
Asa enjoyed his moment. “I tried to tell Krage, Shed. He didn’t want to hear it.”
“Drink your wine and get out, Asa.”
“Shed?” The old whine filled Asa’s voice.
“You heard me. Out. Back to your new friends. See how long
they have a use for you.”
“Shed! . . . ”
“They’ll throw you back into the street, Asa. Right
beside me and Mom. Git, you bloodsucker.”
Asa downed his wine and fled, shoulders tight against his neck.
He had tasted the truth of Shed’s words. His association with
Krage would be fragile and brief.
Shed tried to warn Raven. Raven ignored him. Shed polished mugs,
watched Raven chatter with Darling in the utter silence of sign
language, and tried to imagine some way of making a hit in the
upper city. Usually he spent these early hours eying Darling and
trying to imagine a way to gain access, but lately sheer terror of
the street had abolished his customary randiness.
A cry like that of a hog with a cut throat came from upstairs.
“Mother!” Shed took the stairs two steps at a time.
His mother stood in the doorway of the big bunkroom, panting.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“There’s a dead man in there.”
Shed’s heart fluttered. He pushed into the room. An old
man lay in the bottom right bunk inside the door.
There had been only four bunkroom customers last night. Six
gersh a head. The room was six feet wide and twelve long, with
twenty-four platforms stacked six high. When the room was full,
Shed charged two gersh to sleep leaning on a rope stretched down
the middle.
Shed touched the old-timer. His skin was cold. He had been gone
for hours.
“Who was he?” old June asked.
“I don’t know.” Shed probed his ragged
clothing. He found four gersh and an iron ring. “Damn!”
He could not take that. The Custodians would be suspicious if they
found nothing. “We’re jinxed. This is our fourth stiff
this year.”
“It’s the customers, son. They have one foot in the
Catacombs already.”
Shed spat. “I’d better send for the
Custodians.”
A voice said, “He’s waited this long, let him wait a
little longer.”
Shed whirled. Raven and Darling stood behind his mother.
“What?”
“He might be the answer to your problems,” Raven
said. And immediately Darling began flashing signs so fast Shed
could not catch one in twenty. Evidently she was telling Raven not
to do something. Raven ignored her.
Old June snapped, “Shed!” Her voice was heavy with
admonition.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll handle it. Go ahead
with your work.” June was blind, but when her health
permitted, she dumped the slops and handled what passed for maid
service—mainly dusting beds between guests to kill fleas and lice.
When her health confined her to bed, Shed brought in his cousin
Wally, a ne’er-do-well like Asa, but with a wife and kids.
Shed used him out of pity for the wife.
He headed downstairs. Raven followed, still arguing with
Darling. Momentarily, Shed wondered if Raven was diddling her. Be a
damned waste of fine womanflesh if someone wasn’t.
How could a dead man with four gersh get him out from under
Krage? Answer: He could not. Not legitimately.
Raven settled onto his usual stool. He scattered a handful of
copper. “Wine. Buy yourself a mug, too.”
Shed collected the coins, deposited them in his box. Its contents
were pitiful. He wasn’t making expenses. He was doomed. His
debt to Krage could miraculously be discharged and still he’d
be doomed.
He deposited a mug before Raven, seated himself on a stool. He
felt old beyond his years, and infinitely weary.
“Tell me.”
“The old man. Who was he? Who were his people?”
Shed
shrugged. “Just somebody who wanted to get out of the cold.
The Buskin is full of them.”
“So it is.”
Shed shuddered at Raven’s tone. “Are you proposing
what I think?”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know. What use is a corpse? I mean, even
the Custodians only stuff them in the Catacombs.”
“Suppose there was a buyer?”
“I’ve been supposing that.”
“And?”
“What would I have to do?” His voice barely carried
across the table. He could imagine no more disgusting crime. Even
the least of the city’s dead were honored above the living. A
corpse was a holy object. The Enclosure was Juniper’s
epicenter.
“Very little. Late tonight, have the body at the back
door. You could do that?”
Shed nodded weakly.
“Good. Finish your wine.”
Shed downed it in a gulp. He drew another mug, polished his
stoneware industriously. It was a bad dream. It would go away.
The corpse seemed almost weightless, but Shed had difficulty
negotiating the stairs. He had drunk too much. He eased through the
shadowed common, stepping with exaggerated care. The people
clustered near the fireplace looked demonic in the sullen red of
the last coals.
One of the old man’s feet toppled a pot as Shed entered
the kitchen. He froze. Nothing happened. His heartbeat gradually
slowed. He kept reminding himself that he was doing this so his
mother would not have to freeze on winter streets.
He thumped the door with his knee. It swung inward immediately.
A shadow hissed, “Hurry up,” and seized the old
man’s feet, helped Shed heave it into a wagon.
Panting, terrified, Shed croaked, “What now?”
“Go to bed. You get your share in the morning.”
Shed’s relieved sigh nearly became tears. “How
much?” he gasped.
“A third.”
“Only a third?”
“I’m taking all the risk. You’re safe
already.”
“All right. How much would it be?”
“The market varies.” Raven turned away. Shed closed
the door, leaned against it with closed eyes. What had he done?
He built up the fire and went to bed, lay listening to his
mother’s snores. Had she guessed? Maybe she wouldn’t.
The Custodians often waited for night. He would tell her she had
slept through everything.
He could not sleep. Who knew about the death? If word got out,
people would wonder. They would begin to suspect the
unsuspectable.
What if Raven got caught? Would the Inquisitors make him talk?
Bullock could make a stone sing.
He watched his mother all next morning. She did not speak except
in monosyllables, but that was her custom.
Raven appeared shortly after noon. “Tea and a bowl of
porridge, Shed.” When he paid, he did not shove copper across
the counter.
Shed’s eye widened. Ten silver leva lay before him. Ten?
For one dead old man? That was a third? And Raven had done this
before? He must be rich. Shed’s palms grew moist. His mind
howled after potential crimes.
“Shed?” Raven said softly when he delivered the tea
and porridge. “Don’t even think about it.”
“What?”
“Don’t think what you’re thinking. You would
end up in the wagon.”
Darling scowled at them from the kitchen doorway. For a moment
Raven seemed embarrassed.
Shed slunk into the hostel where Krage held court. From the
outside the place was as crummy as the Lily. Timidly, he looked for
Count, tried to ignore Asa. Count would not torment him for fun.
“Count, I need to see Krage.”
Count opened big brown
cow eyes. “Why?”
“I brought him some money. On account.”
Count heaved
himself upright. “All right. Wait here.”
He stalked off.
Asa sidled up. “Where’d you get the money.
Shed?”
“Where do you get yours, Asa?” Asa did not
answer.
“It isn’t polite to ask. Mind your own business or
stay away from me.”
“Shed, I thought we were friends.”
“I tried to be friends, Asa. I even let you have a place
to sleep. And as soon as you hooked up with
Krage . . . ”
A shadow crossed Asa’s face. “I’m sorry, Shed.
You know me. I don’t think so fast. I do dumb
things.”
Shed snorted. So Asa had come to the inevitable conclusion:
Krage would dump him once he settled with Raven.
Shed was tempted to betray Raven. The man had to have a fortune
hidden. But he was afraid of a thousand things, and his guest stood
at the top of the list.
Asa said, “I found a way to get deadwood from the
Enclosure.” His face brightened in pathetic appeal.
“Mostly pine, but it’s wood.”
“The Enclosure?”
“It’s not illegal, Shed. It keeps the Enclosure
cleaned up.”
Shed scowled righteously.
“Shed, it’s less wrong than going through
somebody’s . . . ”
Shed controlled his anger. He needed allies inside the enemy
camp. “Firewood could be like money, Asa. No
provenance.”
Asa smiled fawningly. “Thanks, Shed.”
Count called, “Shed.”
Shed shook as he crossed the room. Krage’s men
smirked.
This wouldn’t work. Krage wouldn’t listen. He was
going to throw his money away.
“Count says you’ve got something to give me on
account,” Krage said.
“Uhm.” Krage’s den could have been ripped
whole from a mansion high up the wall of the valley. Shed was
stunned.
“Stop gawking and get on with it. You’d better not
give me a handful of copper and beg for an extension, either.
Picked a warm doorway yet? Your payments are a joke,
Shed.”
“No joke. Mr. Krage. Honest. I can pay over half of
it.”
Krage’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting.” Shed
laid nine silver leva before him. “Very interesting.”
He fixed Shed with a penetrating stare.
Shed stammered, “That’s over half, counting
interest. I hoped maybe seeing as how that would put me
ahead . . . ”
“Quiet.” Shed shut up. “You think I should
forget what happened?”
“That wasn’t my fault, Mr. Krage. I didn’t
tell him to . . . You don’t know what
Raven is like.”
“Shut up.” Krage stared at the coins. “Maybe
something can be arranged. I know you didn’t put him up to
it. You don’t have the guts.”
Shed stared at the floor, unable to deny his cowardice.
“Okay, Shed. You’re a regular client. Back to the
regular schedule.” He eyed the money. “You’re
ahead three weeks, looks like.”
“Thank you, Mr. Krage. Really. You don’t know how
much this means . . . ”
“Shut up. I know exactly what it means. Get out. Start
getting another payment together. This is your last
reprieve.”
“Yes. sir.” Shed retreated. Count opened the
door.
“Shed! I may want something sometime. A favor for a favor.
Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. Go.”
Shed left, a sinking feeling replacing relief. Krage would make
him help get Raven. He almost wept as he tramped homeward. It never
got any better. He was always in a trap.