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Croaker."
    They heaved bags. I scrambled after loose coins.
    "One minute gone," Raven said. Half the bags were in the wagon.
    "Too much loose stuff," I said.
    "We'll leave it if we have to."
    "What're we going to do with it? How'11 we hide it?"
    "In the hay in the stable," Raven said. "For now. Later we put a false bed in the wagon. Two minutes gone."
    "What about wagon tracks?" Elmo asked. "He could follow them to the stable."
    "Why should he care in the first place?" I wondered aloud.
    Raven ignored me. He asked Elmo, "You didn't cancel them coming here?"
    "Didn't think of it."
    "Damn!"
    All the sacks were aboard. Elmo and Raven helped with the loose stuff.
    "Three minutes," Raven said, then, "Quiet!" He listened. "Soulcatcher couldn't be here already, could he? No. The Limper again. Come on. You drive, Elmo. Head for a thoroughfare. Lose us in traffic. I'll follow you. Croaker, go try to cover Elmo's back-trail."
    "Where is he?" Elmo asked, staring into the falling snow.
    Raven pointed. "We'll have to lose him. Or he'll take it away. Go on, Croaker. Get moving. Elmo."
    "Get up!" Elmo snapped his traces. The wagon creaked away.
    I ducked under the table and stuffed my pockets, then ran away from where Raven said the Limper was.

XIV
    I don't know that I had much luck obscuring Elmo's back trail. I think we were helped more by morning traffic than anything I did. I did get rid of the stableboy. I gave him a sock full of gold and silver, more than he could make in years of stable work, and asked him if he could lose himself. Away from Roses, preferably. He told me, "I won't even stop to get my things." He dropped his pitchfork and headed out, never to be seen again.
    I hied myself back to our room.
    Everyone was sleeping but Otto. "Oh, Croaker," he said. "Bout time."
    "Pain?"
    "Yeah."
    "Hangover?"
    "That too."
    "Let's see what we can do. How long you been awake?"
    "An hour, I guess."
    "Soulcatcher been here?"
    "No. What happened to him, anyway?"
    "I don't know."
    "Hey. Those are my boots. What the hell you think you're doing, wearing my boots?"
    "Take it easy. Drink this."
    He drank. "Come on. What're you doing wearing my boots?"
    I removed the boots and set them near the fire, which had burned quite low. Otto kept after me while I added coal. "If you don't calm down you're going to rip your stitches."
    I will say this for our people. They pay attention when my advice is medical. Angry as he was, he lay back, forced himself to lie still. He did not stop cussing.
    I shed my wet things and donned a nightshirt I found lying around. I don't know where it came from. It was too short. I put a pot on for tea, then turned to Otto. "Let's take a closer look." I dragged my kit over.
    I was cleaning around the wound, and Otto was cursing softly when I heard the sound: Scrape-dump, scrape clump. It stopped outside the door.
    Otto sensed my fear. "What's the matter?"
    "It's...." The door opened behind me. I glanced back. I'd guessed right.
    The Limper went to the table, dropped into a chair, surveyed the room. His gaze skewered me.
    Inanely, I said, "I just started tea."
    He stared at the wet boots and cloak, then at each man in the room. Then at me again.
    The Limper is not a big man. Barely over five feet tall, and of slightly under average build. Meeting him in the street, not knowing what he was, you would not be impressed. Like Soulcatcher, he was clad in a single color, a dingy brown. He was ragged. His face was concealed by a battered leather mask which drooped. Tangled threads of hair protruded from under his hood and around his mask. It was grey peppered with black.
    He did not say a word. Just sat there and stared. Not knowing what else to do, I finished tending Otto, then made the tea. I poured three tin cups, gave one to Otto, set one before the Limper, took the third myself....
    What now? No excuse to be busy.
    Nowhere to sit but at that table.... Oh, shit!
    The Limper removed his mask. He raised the tin cup....
    I could not