Silent dug inside his filthy shirt, produced the small leather bag that always hangs on a thong around his neck. His trick bag. It is filled with noxious oddiments like putrefied bats ears or elixir of nightmare. This time he produced a folded piece of paper. He cast dramatic glances at One-Eye and Goblin, opened the packet fold by fold. Even the Captain left his seat, crowded the table.

Behold! said Elmo.

Taint nothing but hair. Heads shook. Throats grumbled. Somebody questioned Elmos grasp on reality.

But One-Eye and Goblin had three big coweyes between them. One-Eye chirruped inarticulately. Goblin squeaked a few times, but, then, Goblin always squeaks. Is it really his? he managed at last. Really his?

Elmo and Silent radiated the smugness of eminently successful conquistadors. Absodamnlutely, Elmo said. Right off the top of his bean. We had that old man by the balls and he knew it. He was heeling and toeing it out of mere so fast he smacked his noggin on a doorframe. Saw it myself, and so did Silent. Left these on the beam. Whoo, that gaffer can step.

And Goblin, an octave above his usual rusty hinge squall, dancing in his excitement, said, Gents, weve got him. Hes as good as hanging on a meathook right now. The big one. He meowed at One-Eye. What do you think of mat, you sorry little spook?

A herd of miniscule lightning bugs poured out of One-Eyes nostrils. Good soldiers all, they fell into formation, spelling out the words Goblin is a Poof. Their little wings hummed the words for the benefit of the illiterate.

There is no truth to that canard. Goblin is thoroughly heterosexual. One-Eye was trying to start something.

Goblin made a gesture. A great shadow-figure, like Soulcatcher but tall enough to brush the ceiling beams, bent and skewered One-Eye with an accusing finger. A sourceless voice whispered, It was you that corrupted the lad, sodder.

One-Eye snorted, shook his head, shook his head and snorted. His eye glazed. Goblin giggled, stifled himself, giggled again. He spun away, danced a wild victory jig in front of the fireplace.

Our less intuitive brethen grumbled. A couple of hairs. With those and two bits silver you could get rolled by the village whores.

Gentlemen! The Captain understood.

The shadow-show ceased. The Captain considered h wizards. He thought. He paced. He nodded to himself Finally, he asked, One-Eye. Are they enough?

One-Eye chuckled, an astonishingly deep sound for s small a man. One hair, sir, or one nail paring, is enough Sir, we have him.

Goblin continued his weird dance. Silent kept grinning Raving lunatics, the lot of them.

The Captain thought some more. We cant handle this ourselves. He circled the hall, his pacing portentous Well have to bring in one of the Taken.