Changer's Daughter Read Online Free

charge double what I did for moving Lovern’s gear. Half in favors, half in cash.”
    “That’s quite a bit.”
    “I doubt that Shahrazad’s exactly house-trained, and I live in my van. I want to be paid up front for the cleanup I’m going to have to do.”
    Bill, thinking of what he has seen since the pair’s arrival, says, “I think Shahrazad’s better behaved than she was at the Review, but when you put it that way I don’t think Arthur will quibble about the price.”
    “I’m up at the hot springs in Ojo Caliente,” the Wanderer says. “If this isn’t a rush job, I’ll be there tomorrow morning. If there is, I can be there in about two and a half hours.”
    “I don’t think waiting until tomorrow will be a problem.”
    “Great. See you in the morning.”
    “Thanks.”
    Bill hangs up the phone. “The Wanderer says he’ll be here in the morning.”
    “I’ll tell Arthur,” Chris says. “I have some papers I need him to sign.” He pauses in the doorway. “What was that fuss about at the beginning of the call?”
    Frowning, Bill looks up at his friend. “The connection seemed perfectly clear, but at the beginning of the call I... you’ll think I’m crazy... but I could have sworn that I was talking to a woman.”

2
    Ay, now I am in Arden: the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place: but travellers must be content.
    —Shakespeare
    “ T he driver,” Anson says to Eddie, as the two men depart the bush taxi in Monamona and watch it speed off, throwing up clouds of dust in its wake, “charged three times the going rate and said that he refused to stop here for longer than the time it would take to drop us off.”
    His announcement, even spoken as it had been in the calmest, most thoughtful of tones, destroys the feeling of contentment that had been clinging to Eddie since their departure from Lagos. Despite his earlier dread, Eddie had enjoyed the trip north and west from Lagos. The Peugeot 504 had not been full. The only other passengers had been two men who had sat toward the front and chatted with the driver. This arrangement had left Anson and Eddie with five seats for themselves and their luggage, an unprecedented luxury that Eddie had enjoyed without question, choosing to believe that either Anson had successfully bribed the driver or that they were simply ahead of even the early-morning travelers.
    Now, as he studies Anson’s expression, all memories of the more pleasant aspects of the day’s journey vanish to be replaced by an unfocused but no less intense sensation of dread.
    “The driver didn’t want to stop here?” Eddie asks. “Did he say why?”
    “He say there a great trouble in Monamona,” Anson says, still calm. “That he don’t want to stay too long.”
    “And you didn’t think to mention this to me?” Eddie’s tone is colder than he had intended.
    “What could you do about it?” Anson says reasonably. “I couldn’t do anything—what could you do? So I think I not worry you, let you enjoy the scenery, tell you what is what when we get here.”
    “Maybe I would have wanted to stay in Lagos.”
    “Alone? While I go into trouble?” Anson chuckles warmly. “I no think that, my friend.”
    Eddie frowns. “I would have liked to make my own choice.”
    “Okay. I give you the choice. You want to go to Lagos or you want to stay here and help me find my friends?” Anson shakes a long thin finger at him. “Remember, whatever trouble is here, I may end up in the middle of it. So, what do you do?”
    For a moment, Eddie feels a surge of raw anger. Then he begins to laugh, realizing that Anson has just explained how he had concluded that Eddie would not leave his friend to venture on alone. When his laughter stills, Eddie replies.
    “I’ll stay with you, Anson, but,”—and Eddie shakes his finger in deliberate mimicry—“next time you no leave me in the dark. You tell me what I need to know, and I’ll decide whether or not to worry.”
    “Ah,