Wolves of the Calla - Stephen King [270]
Well…maybe.
“Whatever it was, it’s a damn good indication they really do plan to take the kids into the arroyos,” Slightman was saying. “Not that they’d put em in that cave.”
“No, no, not that cave,” Andy said, and although his voice was as prissy-serious as ever, Jake could imagine his blue eyes flashing even faster. Almost stuttering, in fact. “Too many voices in that cave, they’d scare the children! Yer-bugger!”
DNF-44821-V-63, Messenger Robot. Messenger! You could accuse Slightman of treachery, but how could anyone accuse Andy of it? What he did, what he was, had been stamped on his chest for the whole world to see. There it had been, in front of all of them. Gods!
Benny’s Da’, meanwhile, was plodding stolidly on with his report to Finli o’ Tego, who was in some place called Algul Siento.
“The mine he showed us on the map the Taverys drew is the Gloria, and the Gloria en’t but a mile off from the Cave of the Voices. But the bastard’s trig. Can I give another guess?”
“YES.”
“The arroyo that leads to the Gloria Mine splits off to the south about a quarter-mile in. There’s another old mine at the end of the spur. The Redbird Two, it’s called. Their dinh is telling folks he means to put the kids in the Gloria, and I think he’ll tell em the same at the meeting he’s going to call later this week, the one where he asks leave to stand against the Wolves. But I b’lieve that when the time comes, he’ll stick em in the Redbird instead. He’ll have the Sisters of Oriza standing guard—in front and up above, as well—and ye’d do well not to underestimate those ladies.”
“HOW MANY?”
“I think five, if he puts Sarey Adams among em. Plus some men with bahs. He’ll have the brownie throwing with em, kennit, and I hear she’s good. Maybe best of all. But one way or the other, we know where the kids are going to be. Putting them in such a place is a mistake, but he don’t know it. He’s dangerous, but grown old in his thinking. Probably such a strategy has worked for him before.”
And it had, of course. In Eyebolt Canyon, against Latigo’s men.
“The important thing now is finding out where he and the boy and the younger man are going to be when the Wolves come. He may tell at the meeting. If he don’t, he may tell Eisenhart afterward.”
“OR OVERHOLSER?”
“No. Eisenhart will stand with him. Overholser won’t.”
“YOU MUST FIND OUT WHERE THEY’LL BE.”
“I know,” Slightman said. “We’ll find out, Andy and I, and then make one more trip to this unblessed place. After that, I swear by the Lady Oriza and the Man Jesus, I’ve done my part. Now can we get out of here?”
“In a moment, sai,” Andy said. “I have my own report to make, you know.”
There was another of those long, whistling shrieks. Jake ground his teeth and waited for it to be over, and finally it was. Finli o’ Tego signed off.
“Are we done?” Slightman asked.
“Unless you have some reason to linger, I believe we are,” Andy said.
“Does anything in here seem different to you?” Slightman asked suddenly, and Jake felt his blood turn cold.
“No,” Andy said, “but I have great respect for human intuition. Are you having intuition, sai?”
There was a pause that seemed to go on for at least a full minute, although Jake knew it must have been much shorter than that. He held Oy’s head against his thigh and waited.
“No,” Slightman said at last. “Guess I’m just getting jumpy, now that it’s close. God, I wish it was over! I hate this!”
“You’re doing the right thing, sai.” Jake didn’t know about Slightman, but Andy’s plummily sympathetic tone made him feel like gnashing his teeth. “The only thing, really. ’Tisn’t your fault that you’re father to the only mateless twin in Calla Bryn Sturgis, is it? I know a song that makes this point in particularly moving fashion. Perhaps you’d like to hear—”
“Shut up!” Slightman cried in a choked voice. “Shut up, you mechanical devil! I’ve sold my goddam soul, isn’t that enough for you? Must I be made sport of, as well?”
“If I’ve offended, I apologize from the bottom of my admittedly hypothetical heart,” Andy said. “In