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  Suddenly paving stones flew into the air. Columns of brown river water followed them, blasting holes through the mob. Mots, coves, children all went flying if their luck was ill enough to put them in those powerful blasts. Folk screamed. There were mages nearby, mages with the codes to free the spells on the riot founts. Those pipes of river-fed water were made for just these times, to soak a mob. I clambered up the back of the cove whose skull I'd been trying to break. Maddened with fury and who knew what else, he barely felt me. He was struggling with a pair of tough rushers near as big as he was. I knelt on his shoulders, clinging to his hair. Five more riot founts blew water into the sky, showering folk around them.

  It wasn't enough. If anything, them as hadn't been blasted were glad for the cool of the spray. The only good the riot founts did for us Dogs was that the water's hard push upward knocked out any who stumbled into the columns.

  There was Tunstall, three yards ahead. I marked his place in my mind. A last thought made me glance at Two for One before I dismounted. The old bread shop was burning.

  Then I heard a roar like a bull who'd been cut with a rusty axe. I knew that roar. Tunstall! I don't know when I drew my long boot knife, but I used it, smacking sidelong as I would use a baton.

  Folk are much quicker to notice a blade than they are a stick.

  Goodwin was holding off the mob with a torch in one hand and her baton in the other. She stood over Tunstall, who was propped up against the base of King Gareth's Fountain. Both of Tunstall's legs were stretched out before him, and not properly. They bent in directions straight legs are not supposed to.

  "The sarden tarses stepped on his legs when he went down," Goodwin yelled. "They were the size of oxen!"

  "That's no good," a cove said behind me. I turned, my blade up. It was the big man, Hanse, who'd been at the Jack and Pasty. "Doubtless they're both broke, the way they look." He hunkered down beside Tunstall. "It'll hurt to move you, barbarian."

  Tunstall rolled his eyes at Hanse. "Call me barbarian twice and I'll hurt you," Tunstall said, but there was no vigor in it. His dark face was ashen, his lips blue. He had what the healers called shock. We needed to get him out of danger fast.

  "Right, then." Hanse bent, gathered Tunstall's arms under one of his, hoisted Tunstall over his shoulders, and stood.

  Tunstall started to roar but never finished it. His eyes rolled up in his head as he fainted.

  "Just as well," Hanse shouted to Goodwin.

  "You got a place to go?" Goodwin yelled.

  "We've a snug little fort we're holdin'," Hanse called. "Ask your friend, here."

  "Then take him there," Goodwin snapped. She smacked a cove with her baton and kicked him away from Hanse. "Cooper, go with them – "

  I shook my head. I could hear new whistles shrilling over the low snarl of the mob. "They're calling us in!" I cried. "Come on. It'll take both of us to get Hanse and Tunstall to the Jack and Pasty."

  Goodwin took Hanse's left side, I his right. We grabbed others who looked like they wanted only to escape and towed them along, dealing harshly with any that got in our way as we ducked the riot founts. I truly cannot remember how we made it across sixty-odd yards of packed square. I will say as much in my formal report, and let Ahuda take me to the laundry for it if she likes. I thank the gods for the mage-made balm that Kora found this summer. Without it to rub into my arms and shoulders, I doubt I could write this down while it is fresh in my mind.

  Make it to the Jack and Pasty we did. A stocky fellow with a cord-thin beard, or maybe it was a long mustache, guarded the front door and window. He opened the place for us. I stayed outside with him, in case any had followed us. Truth to tell, I hated to see old Tunstall all ashy and broken like that. It made the world seem cracked, like it might fall to pieces any moment.

  The stocky cove introduced himself to me as Steen. He explained he was one of Hanse's crew of caravan guards and that others guarded the shuttered windows around the sides and back. They'd been looking for trinkets for their lovers at home when the fighting started. I soon learned why he'd been left on his own to protect the door. He was very comfortable with the club he carried. Any of the rioters who thought we looked worth a try soon joined the growing pile of unconscious busy-bodies in front of the shop.

  I don't know when the air boomed, nearabout scaring the sweat out of me, if I'd had any left. Steen hawked and spat. "Mages," he called. "They finally noticed the riot founts weren't doin' the job. That sounds like the start of a freezin' spell – good idea, now they have the square all wet."

  I looked at him and raised my brows. "You've done this afore, is that what you're tellin' me?" I was that tired, to be speaking street cant.

  Steen winked. "A time or two. Not in Corus. They do things this way in Galla and Tusaine. I heard they were plannin' to try it here." A breath of heavy air touched us. "Here we go."

  I raised my hand through a breeze that had the weight of thick honey. The brawlers a couple of yards away moved slower and slower. Steen dragged me inside before we were entirely caught in the spell.

  Once Steen and I were within stone walls I felt normal. "They's layin' a freeze spell outside," Steen yelled to the folk inside the Jack and Pasty. "Yez may as well set. 'Twill be a while afore they break this mob up, doin' it thataway, and ye'll freeze if yez go outside."

  While the others gasped and wondered when they might go home, I looked about for Tunstall. They'd put him on one of the long tables near the hearth. Someone had a small fire burning there. I hobbled over to Goodwin, who was wiping down Tunstall's face with a cloth.

  "How does he go?" I asked.

  "Left leg's broke in three places, the right in two, according to Master Lakeland," Goodwin said, pointing to a short, fat cove. He directed four men as they placed another long table near Tunstall's. There was a pregnant mot on that. Lakeland is a healer who works over on Messinger Lane. He isn't the best, but he would do until we could get Tunstall to a kennel healer. Goodwin asked, "What's going on outside?"

  "Freeze spells," I told her. "Why didn't they use that on the mob last year?" I thought of all the buildings and lives lost back then.

  "You think that kind of magic is there for just any hedge-witch to use, young Terrier?" Master Lakeland asked as he rolled up a shirt and slid it under the pregnant woman's head. "It takes a fearful lot of power."

  "Wasn't that riot spread all over the Lower City?" Dale, the fair-haired cove, came over as I took a seat next to Tunstall. "I heard somewhere that the bigger the crowd, the harder it is to magic the whole thing."

  "It's true," Lakeland said, checking the pots in the hearth. "Boiling already?"

  "They was still hot when we found 'em in the kitchen," replied a gixie who was watching the pots there.

  "Clever girl," Lakeland told her. He looked at the rest of us. "This square's circled about and the riot is largely only here. The mages can hold it with freezing spells. The Dead Men's Riots went from the Commons almost down to here. No one could freeze all of that."

  "And the mages would charge more than the Crown is willing to pay, I'd wager," Dale remarked cheerfully.

  Tunstall stirred and moaned. Lakeland put a hand on him. I saw yellow fire trickle over Tunstall's face and sink in. My partner went quiet again.

  "Keeping him quiet is the best I can do till you get him to your healers," Lakeland told Goodwin. "This mot beside me is starting labor. She'll need me soon. I'm not so good with broken bones. Your friend has two broken legs, and he's been healed often. I'd have to work like a slave to get a simple healing to stick, let alone a complex one. Too many healings and the patient gets resistant, see?"

  "I know," Goodwin said, and sighed.

  "You look worn out." Dale offered me a cup of something. I think it was ale. I shook my head. "You've had a busy night," he said.

  "I'm fine," I said. "You're not from here, Dale – ?"

  "Dale Rowan, of Port Caynn," he said with a grin. He looked all right: straight nose, large eyes, brownish-bl
ond hair and small beard, and that slender, lean-muscled body. "I'm a courier for the Goldsmith's Bank. That's how Hanse and I came to be here – I often travel with the caravans he guards. No one bothers a skinny lad like me with Hanse and his rushers about."

  Hanse yelled something to Dale. I leaned my head on the table where Tunstall rested, just to shut my eyes. I must have gone to sleep. Goodwin roused me around three by the chimes of the city's clocks, when the King's soldiers opened the door to let us out. I looked about for Dale, but he, Steen, and Hanse were already gone.

  They carried Tunstall to the Mother of Healers' temple. Goodwin and I reported at last to Jane Street. Ahuda was still there, waiting for all of us from Evening Watch to report in. She ordered us home.

  I came home to free Achoo from her rope tie in the garden. She slobbered and jumped up, pawing at my weapons belt, all because she was glad to see me. Pounce, though, was different. He stood on Mistress Trout's chicken coop, staring at the sky. I spoke to him three times before he so much as looked at me.

  "Are you all right?" I asked. "Are you missing the other constellations?"

  Pounce jumped down and walked inside ahead of me. I do not miss them, he told me. They are troublesome, and some of the young ones misbehave. You look like you have been fighting.

  I frowned. Pounce always knows what I have done, even if he is not with me. Finally I told him, "It was nothing. Just a small riot," as I unlocked our door. "Tunstall got both legs broken."

  That got his attention. I told him what had happened as I fed him and Achoo dried meat I'd left to soak before I went out. Then I tried to write up the night's events, but I was too weary to finish. I dragged myself to my bed to sleep.

  I remember trying to turn over, to find myself up against a warm body. My face was buried in coarse fur that smelled of roses. Kora's soap is rose-scented. I shoved Achoo. My arms gave me warning twinges of pain. "I don't recall saying you're allowed to sleep on this bed," I told her. I could as well have talked to a sack of flour. "There's scarce room for me and Pounce." I pushed at the hound again. Achoo moaned. I pushed harder and she yelped, fighting to sit up. She planted a paw in my eye in the doing. I brought away a hand covered in greasy ointment. I'd hit one of her sores by accident.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I told the hound, scratching her ears and gentling her, talking in my softest voice. "I never meant to hurt you. Easy, now."

  Achoo washed the goo off my hand. Then she washed my face.

  "Pounce, tell her there's only room for the two of us. She'll do fine on the floor. None of my lord's hounds sleep on a bed," I reminded the cat.

  This bed was comfortable enough for three while you were asleep, Pounce told me. Let the poor creature be. You ought to be happy she still likes humans after the way she's been treated.

  "I am happy Achoo still likes humans," I said. "I just wish she didn't like sleeping with them. It's too hot!"

  I was about to give Achoo the order to get down when I saw that she slept once again. I pushed, taking care not to touch her sores, but it was no good and it made my arms hurt. In the end, I put my back against hers and went back to sleep despite the heat. I must track Phelan down and learn the proper words to command a hound.

  I had the burning man dream again. It's like it was four months ago. I see that cove run into the curst Cesspool building with his torch. I hear the bang as he slams the door and the clack as he bars it. I'm blowing my Dog whistle as hard as ever I can, but no sound's coming out. And I'm trying to run to the building, trying so hard my legs ache, but I'm too gods-curst slow, no matter how hard I push.

  Then all of a sudden the whole thing is on fire. Flames stream out of all of the windows. Even though I couldn't see the faces of them that were jumping out of the building the night it happened for real, in the dream I always see them. They're burning just like the real dead burned that night, and in the dream they wear faces I know. Today it was my sisters and my brothers. They were burning alive. I was running hard to save them, but my feet hit the mud so slow, one at a time, and the burning building was moving away from me. My brother Willes was getting ready to jump. I reached out to him, my mouth open to scream.

  That's when I woke. Pounce was kneading my shoulder hard. Achoo pawed my ribs, whining. I'd sweat clean through my nightdress. I always do when I have the burning dream.

  "Did I shout?" I mumbled.

  You never do, Pounce said.

  "Good." I stumbled to my washbasin and splashed water on my face. I'm glad I don't scream. I don't want anyone to know I have such babyish nightmares.

  Achoo trotted over to the door and sat beside it, looking at me. I stared at her for a moment before I understood what she wanted. "Can't you just magic yourself out, like Pounce?" I asked. There was no answer, not from the hound. I pulled on breeches and a shirt and took Achoo outside. Then we returned and went back to sleep.

  I woke around ten. Filling out the rest of last night's events had to wait until I'd taken Achoo outside, fed her and Pounce, then dragged my aching body to the bathhouse. Only when I'd returned, slathered on that special balm for my sore muscles, and eaten a cold pasty could I fix my mind on writing.

  And here are Kora, Aniki, and Rosto with food. It is just after noon and they are eager to give me the news they gathered while I was getting bruised from head to toe. I will write my proper Sunday journal tonight.

  Sunday, September 9, 247

  One of the morning, after watch.

  Rosto, Kora, and Aniki had all kinds of news, not to mention a basket with a proper lunch. It is strange – Achoo was glad to see Kora, who had cared for her wounds, and gladder still to see food, but she kept trotting back to me to sniff my hair, my neck, and my hands. It was as if she wished to reassure herself that I was well and present. At last I had her lay down half in my lap as we all sat on the floor between Rosto's and Kora's rooms to eat. All the windows and doors there were open to catch the tiniest breezes. The others had already told me the sun was far too bright for us to sit outside, and the open windows did create a wind of sorts through the house.

  While my friends shared out hot pasties, crocks of soup, buns, new-made jellies, and fresh apples, they told me the latest news of the Bread Riot. It was hard to eat around Achoo, with her head sticking up between my arms, but she was polite and only sniffed my food. Her main concern seemed to be my health. She ought to weigh ten or fifteen more pounds than she does, all of it to cushion her elbows and ribs so they don't jab my poor bruises so much. As soon as my own belly stopped growling I fed her and Pounce. The others mostly talked.

  The Nightmarket was cleared and closed until notice was given by the Crown, they told me. Soldiers stood on guard to make sure of that. Night Watch, with Day Watch assisting, was still on duty, hobbling those who'd been up to murder and theft when the freezing spells were put on them. For them as weren't assigned to clean up after the riot, there was extra work, too. The city's Rats always tried to take advantage of the Dogs being distracted.

  "I went to see Tunstall at Mother of Healers," Rosto told me as he peeled an apple with his dagger. "I knew you'd want word. There's a basic healing in place on his legs, and magicked splints, but the healers won't let him go. No bouncing on home right away this time, like he's used to doing."

  "Pox," I muttered. "Any word on how long?"

  "Now, they wouldn't tell the likes of me that kind of news. Hard mots, those goddess healers." Rosto offered me a chunk of apple.

  "There's army all over the riverfront, standing guard on the grain warehouses," Aniki told me, rubbing Achoo's side. "Word's gone all over the city about the price change at Two for One. A lot of bakers didn't open this morning."

  "The harvest isn't that bad!" I protested, though I remembered the problem with the rye crop. "The bakers are panicking over naught! There was no need to raise the price."

  "Perhaps, perhaps no," Kora said, looking at me sidelong. I sometimes think mages practice some kind of mysterious look. That was Kora's, a slide of the
eyes to her left or right, shielded by brown lashes over brown eyes. "Everyone knows the Crown went into the storage granaries to serve bread for the Prince's celebrations this summer. I hear the northeastern rye crop has the poison mold. The King says there will be plenty for all over the winter, but he'll be sure to feed his nobles first, won't he?"

  "That's why we've been picking up grain loads from the Copper Isles and the Yamanis, love," Rosto told her calmly. "Kings look after their own people, be they crowned or Rogue."

  I looked at him sharp. "You've been laying up foreign grain." I said it to be sure of what I heard.

  Rosto smiled just a little. "It's my second year as Rogue. My newness is wearing off. Folk are remembering I'm a stranger to Corus, to Tortall. This is a bad time for me to forget it's a Rogue's duty to feed his people in hard times."

  Aniki kissed Rosto noisily on one razor-sharp cheekbone. "There's my clever lad!"

  "You can't trust kings and nobles," Rosto said, looking at me. "Only them that know how real folk live."

  "You're one to talk of trust," I said. "If you knew aught of the colemongering, would you even tell me?"

  "Some of my people have been bit, but it's at gambling. Especially that new card game from Port Caynn, Gambler's Chance," Rosto said. "And we were able to get some of the money back." He and Aniki both gave me hard smiles. "I'll tell you this for nothing. The coles are coming on the boats from Port Caynn."

  "I'd've done better if you'd given me living gamblers," I snapped. "We need to question them, find out where they got the coin!"

  "We did question 'em, while you were dancing with mad-brained cityfolk last night," Rosto told me. "We weren't tearing up our own shops."

  "They told us they got it gambling – dice, horse or dog racing, dogfights, cockfights, cards." Aniki fed Achoo some pasty. With what I'd given her, Achoo had a round bulge in her belly. "And you'll know who they are as soon as you find them."