“This is what I do,” Chronicler said, irritated. “I collect stories. And when I get the chance I investigate odd rumors and see if there’s any truth behind them.” “Out of curiosity, which rumor was it?” Bast asked. “Apparently you got soppy drunk and let something slip to a wagoneer,” Chronicler said. “Rather careless, all things considered.” Bast gave Chronicler a profoundly pitying look. “Look at me,” Bast said, as if talking to a child. “Think. Could some wagon herder get me drunk? Me?” Chronicler opened his mouth. Closed it. “Then . . .” “He was my message in a bottle. One of many. You
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