“Harm’s known when harm’s done,” he said portentously, throwing himself into a chair and fanning himself with a towel. Indeed, he looked very hot and harried, and I guessed that the cook’s garb was not a disguise. He affirmed this. “Seeing I caused such a hooraw there in Three Knob, I decided to be a little less obvious in future. So, come the outskirts of Reavebridge, I put the mounts in a stable and came into town like any pawn looking for work and well recommended.”
“Well recommended?” I didn’t mean to twit him, but it did come out that way.
“Well recommended,” he announced in a firm voice. “I had foresight enough to have Himaggery and Mertyn write me letters of reference and leave the as-what blank so I could fill it in myself. You’ll be pleased to know they recommend me highly as a chef, and chief chef I am in this place since their last one got himself riotous during a recent family observance and hasn’t got himself on his feet yet. May not, from what I hear. Terrible stuff, this Reavebridge wine, when drunk with grole sausage, which is mostly how they drink it.” He went on fanning himself, pausing only to open the window behind him and lean out to take a deep breath. “I was beginning to give up on you.”
“We came the back way,” I said.
“Thought you must’ve come by way of the moon.”
“Along the Boneview River, Chance. It was there that Queynt joined us. He’s strange, all right, but it seemed less harmful to come along with him rather than make a fuss.”
“Silkhands looks tired,” said Chance. “Who’s the girl?”
“Jinian? A student of Silkhands’. Promised to King Kelver by her brother, Armiger Mendost. However, she’s not eager to be given to the King. Wants to come along with Silkhands and me to find the answers to the mystery.”
“Oh, ah,” said Chance, patting himself all over before finding the crumpled paper he was looking for. “Speaking of mystery, here’s a message came by Elator from Himaggery. Says the blues are coming in from all over and they’ve found Quench…”
“It’s directed to me,” I said mildly, seeing it was opened.
“Well,” he said and shrugged, “you took a time getting here. Himaggery might have wanted an answer.”
I unfolded the message, already ragged where Chance had ripped it, to read Himaggery’s message. They thought they had found Quench¾with the Immutables. “Gamelords,” I snarled to myself. “That’s why the fellow looked so familiar. It was Quench, Quench all the time.”
“Who’s that?”
“The fellow who came to meet us at the ruin, the one who went to get Riddle, the long-faced fellow. I’d never seen Quench without that square black hat the magicians wore and the long black robe and mittens. That’s who that was: Quench.”
“Well, that tells you what that hooraw was on the road. Must have been Quench trying to get you there without your knowing.”
I didn’t answer him. I was too angry with myself. I went back to the message. Riddle and Quench were being brought to the Bright Demesne together with some others of those who had escaped from the holocaust of the magicians. Riddle had decided he needed help of some kind, and so on and so on. Peter was to feel free to go on to the north if he liked. They sent their affectionate regards.
“Why,” I grated at Chance, “why did Riddle do that to me? I would have helped him if he’d asked me. Why! I can’t believe he’s an evil man.”
“Well, if you won’t believe him evil, then think up a reason why he’s not.”
That was Chance. Think of a reason. Before I had a chance to think of anything, we heard someone outside the door and Chance eased himself out with vague words about breakfast as Queynt oozed himself in.
“Well, young sir, so quick to place orders among kitchen staff? Hardly an instant, and breakfast ordered already? Ah, but what it is to be young! Isn’t that so? Enormous energy, enormous strength, eat like a fustigar and sleep like a bunwit when one is young. One might ask why not wait to order breakfast until supper has been consumed. One might ask that, but Vitior Vulpas Queynt will not. No! Queynt has learned that each man has his oddities, oh, my yes. Ha-ha. Oddities, which if not questioned can be safely overlooked, but if mentioned must be dealt with, considered, judged! Isn’t that so? Now, your tub, young sir, and me off to mine in the instant. Below us, supper soon awaits our pleasure.”