Yaozu sat up straight and smiled indulgently, like Rector had learned a new trick. “Yes! That’s precisely it. I don’t want either one of those things. And your new friends don’t either. Now, as for me … am I well-beloved beneath the streets? No, not at all. In fact, a fair number of people down here would be happy to set me on fire. But the smart ones understand that I’m doing them a favor. I’m spending my own money—”

“Minnericht’s money,” Rector blurted out, then cringed. It’d flown out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Yaozu let it slide. “Minnericht’s money, if you prefer. Regardless, I am restoring the city. This place is an investment. I want it to survive.” He settled back in his seat again, slumping slightly as if this whole business wore him out, but it was all fully, miserably necessary.

Rector cleared his throat and said, “Well then, I hope you stick around.”

“Me, too,” Yaozu said, and the words were weighted down with cynicism. Without brightening, and without unslumping, Yaozu continued to speak in a low, firm voice. “The dead are our watchdogs, Rector Sherman. We cannot afford to let them fade into myth or memory. I need to know how they’re getting out, and although I have other men assigned to this task, you are in a unique position to be of service, and I hope you will seize this opportunity to prove yourself. The Doornails will talk to you; they will let you come and go, and ask questions. Your two friends Ezekiel and Houjin can be of great assistance, insomuch as Captain Cly or Briar Wilkes will let either of them out on a long enough leash.”

He hesitated, then went on. “And then there is the native woman, Angeline Sealth. She would as soon push me off a cliff as tell me the time of day, but she’s a remarkably useful woman in her way. It’s entirely possible that she knows the streets better than anyone else alive. I am in no position to ask for her help, but you are.”

“I already talked to her,” Rector said. “Met her in the Vaults. She gave me some cherries.”

“How kind of her,” Yazou said, drolly. Then he rose to his feet and removed his spectacles, folding them again and setting them atop a book. “You’re a salesman, Rector. You know how to talk to people—in fact, that might be the only thing you know how to do. So that’s what I want you to do. I want you to explore. And one week from today, I want a full report of what you’ve learned.”

Chapter 11

Eleven