Free Bleak Seasons by Glen Cook Page A

nearly spent arrow. The cut, on his cheek, was
     trivial. Arrows have little energy by the time they reach us. He was outraged
     because fate dared show him the back of her hand at all.
    He danced around. Words of power virtually dripped from his mouth in pastel
     colors. He waved his arms. He foamed at the mouth. He jumped up and down,
    shrieked, flapped his arms.
    His doppelgangers all did the same. It was quite a show.
    In all likelihood the gymnastics and yelling had nothing to do with results
     eventually achieved but I don’t mind showmanship as long as he produces. Croaker
     was right. Showmanship is the biggest part of the game.
    Everything hemp within three hundred yards burst into flame. That was a happy
     eventuality where our relationship with our attackers was concerned but not
     something likely to wring cries of joy from anyone else, either. Temporary
     defense works began to fall apart. Our artillery pieces flared and died. They
     had included lots of rope. Some guys use rope for belts. Some wear sandals made
     of rope. Hemp is a commonplace everywhere. Some fools like One-Eye even smoke
     it.
    Cletus bellowed, “Goddamn you, Goblin, I’m gonna chop your ass into cat food.”
    The rest of us just pulled our pants up and amused ourselves by dropping masonry
     bits mined from our cellars onto the cursing tangle of limbs wriggling at the
     foot of the wall.
    One-Eye ignored all that, though he took a moment to smirk at the side effects
     embarrassing Goblin. Then he began to stare at the glow rising from the enemy
     camp. And began to stutter.
    “Come on, shithead,” I growled. “You’ve played with this stuff for ages. What
     have we got here?” Not that I wanted to know. That web of shadow woven into the
     light was now obvious to all but the blind.
    “Maybe we might ought to head for the cellar,” One-Eye suggested. “I promise
     you, me and the runt ain’t gonna do nothing with that. Bet you even Longshadow
     would be bugeyed if he was here to see it. The man put a lot of work in, getting
     that ready. It’s going to get real unhealthy around here real soon.” Without
     investing a quarter of the study time Goblin agreed. “If we seal the doors and
     use the white candles we can hold out till sunrise.”
    “This some kind of shadow magic, then?”
    “Some kind,” Goblin agreed. “Don’t ask me to look so close I catch its
     attention.”
    “Heaven forbid you should actually take a risk. Can either of you come up with a
     more practical suggestion?”
    “More practical?” One-Eye sputtered.
    “We’re fighting a battle here.”
    Goblin said, “We could retire from the soldiering racket. Or we could surrender.
    Or we could offer to change sides.”
    “Maybe we could offer up a half-pint human sacrifice to one of Geek and Freak’s
     bloodthirsty gods.”
    “You know what I really miss about Croaker, Murgen?”
    “I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.”
    “Damned straight you are. I miss his sense of humor.”
    “Wait a minute. His sense of humor? Are you shitting me? What sense of humor?
    The man . . . ”
    “He knew none of us were going to get out of this world alive, Murgen. He never
     took himself completely serious.”
    “Are you talking about the guy who used to be the Old Man? Croaker? Company
     Annalist and chief bonesetter in his spare time? Some kind of comedian?”
    While we bickered the rest of the world bustled along with its business. Which
     meant our situation deteriorated by the minute. A human weakness, as old as
     time, arguing while the house burns down around you.
    One-Eye interjected, “You gents go ahead and debate if you want. I’m going to
     invite the boys downstairs, treat them to a beer and take a turn or two at
     tonk.” He stabbed a crooked black finger earthward.
    The gleaming dust with cruel web inside began to arc up over the city. It just
     might grow enough to net us all.
    A vast stillness set in.
    Inside the