"RAVEN, OWL, AND I"

The old woman said, "I think he's gone."

Csucskari, staring down at his brother, snorted."I'd know if he were."

"He's cold," she said.

"Yes, I imagine he would be. I don't doubt that he's been here for hours. They found a good place to hide him."

"But how could he-?"

"Hush, old woman."

He bent down and wrestled his brother's form into a position where he was sitting up, squatted, and lifted him onto his shoulder. He was as light as air,light as a bird.

"Where are you bringing him?" she asked.

"To your home, old woman."

"But he needs-"

"A cup of tea will see him well, I think. Do you know how to make tea? Take his tambourine."

"If he's not dead-"

"Tcha! Don't you know Luci's work when you see it?"

She sighed and began shuffling back toward her home. A moment later she suddenly said, "I know Cynthia's work, though."

"Eh?"

"That scarf, around his throat. Cynthia made it."

"Indeed? I wonder how Raymond came to it."

"I've never seen it before. Except-"

Csucskari looked at her. "Yes?"

"The pattern. Does it look familiar?"

"No."

"Hmmmph. You are observant. The rug in my living room."

"Did Cynthia make that?"

"No, I did. But I didn't make the scarf."

"Perhaps Cynthia only made it recently."

"She's been dead since-" the old woman stopped in mid-sentence. "Yes, perhaps she did."

Csucskari matched his pace to what Madam Moria could keep up with, and said no more as he walked.

Who can ever know your heart,

who will ever tell?

No one will believe, my friend,

All that you'll receive, my friend.

Before she locks you in your private Hell.

"THE FAIR LADY"

The Fair Lady wriggles Her toes and frowns. '"Well, " She says, "I can hardly blame you, 1 suppose." The woman-child stares with eyes like twin moons at the full. The Fair Lady thinks of a Wolf howling at the moon, and has to force Herself not to shudder. "A jackal followed the trail you left and thought you were his prey, the Raven drove the jackal off so Badger wouldn't slay. The Badger brought him to the Wolf who would not eat him down. So now the Raven leads them all until the Dove be found."

The woman-child, left arm held tight by the liderc, says nothing. The Fair Lady thinks she is as frightened as She has ever seen a mortal. "But at least we have you, now,and that should be bait for both Wolf and Raven, shouldn't it?"

The girl clutches something tightly in her right arm. The Fair Lady notices it for the first time, and says, "What is that?" Her voice doesn't tinkle or chime, now, it snaps,and carries a shock like plunging into ice-cold water. The girl starts to cry. "What is it?" repeats the Fair Lady, but the girl is too frightened to answer.

Screams from the little room, and the girl stops crying.Her eyes get bigger, if that is possible, and she looks that way. The Fair Lady smiles. "An old woman," She says,"who thought to thwart me. You won't make that mistake,will you?"

The girl trembles and shakes her head.

"Good. Now, what is that you're holding?"

It takes a long time for her to speak, and when she does,her voice is so small it is almost lost in the crackling of the fire. But she says, "His fiddle."

"His?" The Fair Lady frowns. "The Raven's?" And then She smiles. "You've brought me his fiddle? You've pulled his wings and brought them to me. There may be hope for you, girl."

The girl sobs.

"Give it to me, then, and you will not be punished. "

The girl sobs again and shakes her head.

"What?" cries the Fair Lady. "You think to defy me? Give me the fiddle!" There is another scream from the next room.

The girl sobs once more, clutches the fiddle tightly, and,again, shakes her head.

The Fair Lady's eyes are cold as ice, cold as snow, cold as the space between Her world and ours, cold as the heart of the midwife. She speaks to the liderc. "Take her away and bring her back when she's changed her mind."

They open the door to where the old woman is crying out from the pain of the hot coals the nora is pressing to the bottoms of her feet. The girl sees this and stumbles, almost falls, and her tears flow now in rivers.

"Well," demands the Fair Lady. "Will you give me what I want?"

But she shakes her head once more. The fair lady scowls and nods to the liderc, who pushes the girl into the room and closes the door. The Fair Lady stares into the fire, thinking.

I can't hear the fiddles when you hum.

I can't see where the raven flies,

I can't hear the rhythm for the drum.

And I can't see the forest for your eyes.

"GYPSY DANCE"

Ed set down the receiver. "No luck. Guy at the rooming house says your Coachman hasn't come back. Bitched at me about the rent being overdue, too." He flung himself down in a saggy overstuffed chair and looked up at the ceiling.

"Where else does he hang out?" Durand demanded of Daniel, who was sitting beside him on the couch. Durand balanced a mug of coffee on his knee. Daniel held his with both hands, as if to still their shaking. They looked, Stepovich, thought, more like college buddies than a cop questioning a suspect. Stepovich took a sip of coffee, settled his shoulders against the door jamb again. "Bars?" Durand suggested. "Does he have a favorite? Is there a woman, a friend he'd go to?Where would he go?" Stepovich and Ed exchanged glances. Durand was pushing Daniel to answer before he'd had a chance to think.

Daniel shrugged wearily. "I don't know, I told you,I've only been here a short time. I haven't been living in his pocket."

"I saw blood in that carriage," Stepovich said suddenly. "Madam Moria didn't look hurt. Neither did the Coachman, but he might be able to take a bullet and not let it show for a while. So think about this;kid: If he was hurt, maybe bad, where would he go?"

"We could try phoning hospitals," Ed suggested."It's tedious, but it's paid off before."

"If we have to," Stepovich shrugged. "But let's have the kid think on it, first."

Daniel was trying. The strain showed in his face."With this Madam Moria, perhaps?" he suggested.His shoulders sagged suddenly. "I'm only guessing," he admitted wearily.

Stepovich fought back a yawn. "It's worth checking."

"Let's phone," said Durand,

Ed just looked at him. Stepovich said, "If she says he's there, we have to go get him. If she says he's not there, we still have to check. And we don't want to warn him, anyway."

"In the morning?" Ed suggested.

"Now," Stepovich and Daniel said in unison. Stepovich wondered if the gypsy lad felt the same strange urgency he did about this. Restlessness was running down his back with cold rat feet. He had that prickly feeling that something was happening, right now-something he should be in on. He caught his jacket up from the back of the chair, slung it on impatiently. Ed went to the door, jingling his keys. Durand came to his feet, stretching. Daniel rose, swayed slightly, squinting his eyes against pain or dizziness, but when Durand reached a hand to steady him, he waved it away. Tougher than he looked.

Ed drove, with Stepovich up front beside him.Daniel and Durand were in the back. Stepovich sat sideways on the seat; he couldn't quite trust his back to the gypsy. Not yet. He'd been good to Laurie, all right. But that didn't mean he was a good guy, not completely. Durand smothered another monstrous yawn. The kid was tired.