The Last Protector (25 page)

"The Gifts of Spafu, on their way to the shops,” Nalia said. “Every night Rosaiah stands in the special place and prays, and every morning the doors at the foot of the Temple open up and the Gifts are there, everything we need for the day."

"Where's it come from?” Jape asked.

"The Dragon makes it, of course.” For the first time in a few days, she flashed him that look that almost shouted,
well, duh!

"Bullshit,” Scrornuck muttered. “That lizard can't..."

"Oh?” Nalia said. “Would you care to tell me where the Gifts come from, then?"

"Um...” Where
did
the stuff come from? They'd seen no farms or factories near the city, or on their journey to the Executive Palace. He found he had no answer, and thinking about the question was making his head start throbbing again. “Ah, screw it,” he mumbled, and they walked in silence to the Guest Gate.

The silence continued after they returned to the resort. Nalia, the only one of the three who seemed healthy and rested, went down to the pool. Scrornuck headed for the shower, while Jape sat in the suite's kitchen and guzzled coffee. Once the Ranger was fully awake and Scrornuck no longer stank of smoke, the pair headed down to the pool, stopping along the way to pick up a fruit beverage touted as good for hangovers. Seeing Nalia methodically swimming laps, Scrornuck sighed and gently lowered himself into the hot tub to soak his aching muscles. Jape sat at a nearby table and perused the documents he'd gotten from Tremmlowe.

"A six-pack says they're all useless,” Scrornuck said as Jape discarded another paper.

"I buy all the beer anyway. What kind of bet is that?"

"The kind you deserve.” Scrornuck sipped his drink and made a face. It was sweet, very sweet. “Son-of-a-bitch tried to kill me, and you let him go."

Jape shrugged. “We looked in your room. No blood, no bodies, no sign of a fight."

"You don't believe me about Nalia and the Orb, either."

"No sign of it in the room, and she doesn't remember anything..."

"She didn't remember touching it the last time, either."

"Nor did I."

"Shit! You think I'm making up stories?"

Jape sighed. “Mister Saughblade, you were obviously in something more than a bar fight. But we found no Orb, no dead assassins—only you, half-naked, looking like you'd been through hell, raving about Tremmlowe trying to kill you."

"Just telling you what happened.” Scrornuck chugged about half the fruit drink, and struggled to keep the syrupy beverage down. “You know I'd never lie to you."

Jape set down his paper and stared straight ahead. “Yes, I know that.” He glanced at the pool. “Would you ask Nalia to join us?"

"Better ask her yourself,” Scrornuck said dejectedly. “She probably won't even talk to me after I chased those bimbos last night—"

"You were drunk, you thought she'd dumped you for Tremmlowe. I think she'll forgive you.” Jape sighed deeply. “Mister Saughblade, there's something I need to tell you. Have a seat, please.” He shuffled his papers nervously while Scrornuck climbed out of the hot tub and took the chair across from him. “Tremmlowe looked like our only source of information, and he was interested in Nalia.” He took a deep breath. “I paid her an extra gold piece a day to flirt with him."

Scrornuck's chair clattered against the pool deck as he jumped to his feet, staring in disbelief. “You paid her to flirt with that little shit? That is the lowest ... I've taken all the crap that a hundred worlds can throw at me, I've been shot, stabbed, burned, flogged, and left for dead in a trash dumpster...” He felt himself fighting back tears. “We were supposed to be in this together. I never thought you'd lie to me."

"I didn't lie; I just didn't tell you everything."

"Cut the lawyer crap!"

Jape's voice dropped to a whisper. “I'm not proud of what I did..."

"You shouldn't be!"

"What would you have me do?"

"You could have told me."

"Would you have let her go through with it?"

"Let her make kissy-face with the slimebag? Hell, no!"

"See?” Jape said. “You've got a teenage crush on her. I kind of hoped it'd cool down if you saw her taking an interest in somebody else."

"My love life is none of your damn business!” Scrornuck's voice rose to a roar, loud enough to turn heads around the pool area. Even Nalia stopped her lap-swimming and stood up to see what was going on.

"I was just trying to help,” Jape said. “You know what happens when you get involved with local women. And in another week we'll be out of here—"

"What do you mean, ‘we,’ Ranger?"

Jape's jaw dropped. “You made a promise,” he said slowly.

Scrornuck cut him off. “So did you!"

Jape was silent for a long time. Then he turned and looked Scrornuck in the eye. “Mister Saughblade..."

Scrornuck turned away. He wasn't going to let those hypnotic blue eyes work on him this time.

"I was wrong.” Jape's words hung in the air for what seemed like forever. “When I paid Nalia to flirt with Tremmlowe, I was using both of you. And you're right—your love life is your business, not mine. I shouldn't have tried to break up your relationship.” He took another deep breath. “I didn't keep my part of our bargain—and now I find I can't hold you to your part.” In a weary voice he said, “I release you from your promise."

Scrornuck's jaw dropped. “You'd do that?"

"I don't want to,” Jape said. “But it's the only honorable thing.” There was another long silence. “I still need your help to finish this assignment. Can I count on you for that?"

"Yes."

"And after?"

"We'll see."

"Good enough,” Jape said. He sounded old, tired, beaten. “Well, Mister Saughblade, let's get to work. There's a world to be saved—but first, I think you need to make up with your girlfriend."

Scrornuck swam the length of the pool under water, surfacing directly in Nalia's path. Standing up in the waist-deep water, he flipped his mop of wet hair over his back, making a cheerful rainbow.

"Hi,” she said, tentatively.

"Hi,” he said, just as tentatively. Several seconds passed in silence. Then they both spoke at once.

"Scrornuck, there's something we have to..."

"Uh, Nalia, I have to..."

They both stopped. Finally, after another long silence, he spoke, not daring to make eye contact. “I'm really sorry about what I did last night."

"You should be,” she said curtly. More time passed in silence, and then she suddenly sighed, a long sigh of frustration and anger. “I don't even know who I'm mad at. I'm mad at you, I'm mad at Jape, I'm mad at myself for going along with him...” She suddenly put both her hands in the middle of Scrornuck's chest and shoved him over. When he surfaced, sputtering, he saw her looking at him thoughtfully—and smiling. “Oh, hell,” she said, taking hold of his chin and forcing him to look into her deep brown eyes, “we were all such dumbasses. Maybe we should just forget last night ever happened."

"Can you do that?"

"Probably not. But I can pretend. Hell, if I could pretend to be interested in Tremmlowe, I can pretend anything."

"I'm still really sorry about what I did.” He hadn't been pretending with the two
chickaderos,
not one bit.

"Let's not talk about that,” she said. “I don't like it, but it's none of my business—unless you're saying you want to be my boyfriend. Do you?"

"Umm...” Of course I do, he thought, but there are so many things in the way, like saving the world. “I don't want to hurt you, but, uh, I like you a lot, and I'd like to think you still like me, even after all the dumb things I did. Yeah, I do, if you want me to."

"Of course I do, silly!” Nalia threw her arms around him and planted a big kiss on the tip of his nose. He responded in kind, longing to kiss her the way he'd kissed the
chickaderos,
but suspecting the time wasn't yet right. She pushed him over again, and this time he pulled her down with him. Laughing, they swam back slowly. Together.

"Everything patched up between you two?” Jape asked, as Scrornuck and Nalia toweled off and dropped into a comfortable chair for two.

"Getting there,” Scrornuck said.

"Good.” Jape looked nervously at Nalia. “What about between
us
?"

"I've decided to pretend last night didn't happen,” she said. “At least the parts that involved me getting friendly with Tremmlowe. When he held my hand, I wished I was wearing a rubber glove.” She looked Jape in the eye and smiled a sly smile. “And I've also decided to believe you're giving me five gold pieces a day, retroactive to last Saturday night, because I'm such a great guide."

Scrornuck grinned, impressed by Nalia's
chutzpah
and amused by Jape's stunned reaction; for a moment the Ranger simply stared, his mouth hanging open. Then he collected himself, reached for his purse, and said, “Of course. Five gold pieces a day, from the beginning. Of course."

"If nobody minds,” Scrornuck said, taking out his prayer book, “I'd like to offer a proper blessing before our dinner arrives."

After spending several hours in the suite, where Scrornuck napped while Jape and Nalia performed mind-reading experiments, they'd returned to Syb's Tavern in search of clues and a meal.

"As long as you don't stand on the table and shout it,” Jape said, pointing to a Mayoral Guard who quietly strolled through the tavern, gave them a suspicious look, and left. “We're being watched."

Scrornuck chose a short but meaningful passage, and recited it softly—in Gaelic, just to be on the safe side. “Hey, what's this?” he said as he went to put the book back in his sporran. He dumped the sporran's contents onto the table. “Sheeyit, I forgot all about this stuff!” He pointed to the cable-tie. “First guy tried to strangle me with this.” Next, the Residence Pass. “Found this on the guy with the poisoned sword.” Last, a pouch full of small white pills. “And our friend Slimeball had these."

Jape immediately picked up one of the pills. “Tremmlowe had drugs? That's a whole new can of worms. Let's see if we can find out what it is and what it does.” He touched the pill to one of his rings, and a moment later the softscroll made a quiet chime and displayed a small message. “Looks like we'll have to wait.” He took a napkin and carefully cleaned the ring's jewel. “In the meantime, let's see what residues we can find. Nalia, would you please put a little spit on this ring?"

"Spit?"

"A blood test would be better,” Jape said, “but we're in public."

With a shrug, she touched her tongue to the jewel. A moment later, the scroll beeped softly and Jape carefully cleaned the ring. “Your turn, Mister Saughblade.” Scrornuck deposited some spit, probably more than Jape really wanted. After the scroll beeped a second time, Jape repeated the ritual with his own saliva. “Would you look at that!” he said, reading the results.

"It found something in me, right?” Scrornuck said. “I told you I got stuck with a poisoned sword."

"A Class III neurotoxin,” Jape said. “The sedative-gone-bad that we found on those darts at the Executive Palace, which suggests your alleged assassins are connected with the soldiers we met there. Nasty: two drops are enough to kill."

"Good thing he only got one chance,” Scrornuck said.

Jape nodded. “Annoying as you can be, I'd miss you. What's next? Looks like I got a sedative, an alkaloid that knocks you out for a while, mixes well with alcohol, but leaves you with a hell of a hangover. I can vouch for the last part."

"Mixes with alcohol,” Scrornuck mused, and suddenly pieces of the puzzle started clicking together. “Wait here.” He got up and ducked into the bar's kitchen. As the dishwasher watched, amused, he found a used beer mug, about half-full of Batatat's Stout, warm and sticky with a congealed brown head. “Perfect,” he whispered.

"Ugh,” Jape said when Scrornuck returned, “that stuff's nasty enough when it's fresh! What gives?"

"Last night I found you here, with a half-empty mug of Batatat's. Your taste in beer sucks, so it couldn't have been yours."

Jape nodded. “Tremmlowe proposed a toast when the girls took you upstairs. My glass was empty, so I took yours. It smelled bad and tasted worse."

"And this from a guy who drinks coffee? Yeah, it was nasty—when I sniffed it later on, I almost puked again. I thought it was just warm and stale, but...” Scrornuck cautiously sniffed the dirty mug. It smelled like beer, warm and stale, but beer nonetheless, with no hint of the foul odor he'd detected in Jape's half-finished pint. “Take a whiff."

In the even-more-cautious manner of a chemistry student, Jape waved his hand over the top of the mug, fanning its scent toward his nose. “Still smells like sludge, but I see what you mean—this one doesn't have the chemical stink."

"So there's the plot,” Scrornuck said. “They slip me a Mickey, the girls take me upstairs, and once I'm out, the assassins kill me quietly.” He shoved the stale beer aside. “Shit! I should have seen it coming!” He sighed. “What did I do to deserve such attention?"

"What didn't you do?” Jape said. “You've kept the Servants from the sacrifice they want, and you beat the crap out of them when they tried to take it from you."

"They'd kill me just to get my boots?"

"No, they wouldn't,” Nalia objected. “Rosaiah said the sacrifice had to be voluntary, and nobody would disobey the High Priest. If he doesn't approve your offering, it doesn't count."

Jape again stared at the little white pill. “I suspect the ultimate reason for the plot has something to do with this stuff. Nalia, the instrument found traces of this drug in your saliva, so it appears Tremmlowe slipped you one of these. I wonder where he got it. I haven't seen any drugstores in Taupeaquaah."

"Medicines are a Gift of Spafu,” she said, “so there's an apothecary at the Temple. But only the Temple Healers are allowed to use it."

"What about the Guards?” Scrornuck asked.

"Probably not officially, but I imagine the Healers would get it for them if they asked."

"Uh-huh,” Jape said, turning the pill over in his hand.

"Let me see that a second,” Nalia said. Jape handed her the pill, and she inspected it closely. “Four years ago, when I was learning to handle a sword, I got a cut on my arm. It was bad enough to need stitches.” She pointed to a barely detectable scar on her right arm. “They gave me a pill that looked like this, and next thing I knew, the cut was all sewn up. I never felt a thing."