He could imagine the alternating delight and alarm Urthona was feeling. He now had a route to get into Red Orc’s dwelling, but Red Orc could get into his house through that same route, too.
Urthona said, “You’re wrong, I know where Red Orc lives. Did live, that is. One of my men saw him on the street only two hours ago. He thought at first it was me and that I was on some business he’d better keep his nose out of. Then he returned here and saw me and knew I couldn’t have gotten here so quickly.
“I realized what good fortune had done for me. I got my men and surrounded the house and we broke in. We had to kill four of his men, but he got away. Gated out, I suppose. And when he did, he eliminated all the gates in the house. There was no way of following him.”
“I had thought that one of the burned corpses might be Red Orc’s,” Kickaha said. “But he is still alive. Well. . .”
“I’m tired of playing this game,” Urthona said. “I would like to see my brother become one of those charred corpses. I will make a bargain with you again. If you will get Red Orc for me, deliver him to me in a recognizable condition, I will release your friends and guarantee safe passage back to your World of Tiers. That is, if I can satisfy myself that your story about the Beller is true.”
“You know how to do that,” Kickaha said. “Let me speak to Anana and Wolff, so that I can be sure they’re still alive.”
“I can’t do that just at this moment,” Urthona said. “Give me, say, ten minutes. Call back then.”
“Okay,” Kickaha said. He hung up and left the phone booth in a hurry. Urthona might or might not have some means of quickly locating the source of the call, but he did not intend to give him a chance. He hailed a taxi and had it drop him off near the La Brea Tar Pit. From there, he walked up Wilshire until he came to another booth. Fifteen, not ten, minutes had passed. Di Angelo answered the phone this time. Although he must have recognized Kickaha’s voice, he said nothing except for him to wait while he switched the call. Urthona’s voice was the next.
“You can speak to my niece, the leblabbiy-lover, first,” Urthona said. Anana’s lovely voice said, “Kickaha! Are you all right?”
“Doing fine so far!” Kickaha said. “The Beller is dead! I killed him myself. And Red Orc is on the run. Hang on. We’ll get back to the good world yet. I love you!”
“I love you, too,” she said.
Urthona’s voice, savage and sarcastic, cut in. “Yes, I love you too, leblabbiy! Now, do you want to hear from Wolff?”
“I’m not about to take your word that he’s O.K.,” Kickaha said.
Wolff’s voice, deep and melodious, came over the phone. “Kickaha, old friend! I knew you’d be along, sooner or later!”
“Hello, Robert, it’s great to hear your voice again! You and Chryseis all right?”
“We’re unharmed, yes. What kind of deal are you making with Urthona?”
The Lord said, “That’s enough! You satisfied, Earthling?”
“I’m satisfied that they’re alive as of this moment,” Kickaha said. “And they had better be when the moment of payment comes.”
“You don’t threaten me!” Urthona said. And then, in a calmer tone, “Very well. I shall assist you in any way I can. What do you need?”
“The address of Red Orc’s house,” Kickaha said.
“Why would you need that?” Urthona said, surprised.
“I have my reasons. What is the address?”
Urthona gave it to him but he spoke slowly as if he were trying to think of Kickaha’s reasons for wanting it. Kickaha said, “That’s all I need now. So long.”
He hung up. A minute later, he was in a taxi on his way to Urthona’s house. Two blocks away, he paid the driver and walked the rest of the way. The small iron gate was chained now, and the lights in the little guardhouse near the big gate showed three men inside. The mansion was also ablaze, although he could see nobody through the windows.