“Good thing,” she told him.
He grunted. “There’s the understatement of the month. That was a pretty wicked magic he concocted. Lethal stuff. It missed you, but it got that park guy.”
“Ray Childress. I know. It makes me sick.”
Pick was silent for a time. “You better watch out, Nest,” he said finally. “There are bad demons and there are worse-than-bad demons. I think Findo Gask is in a class by himself. He won’t give up. He’ll keep coming after you until he has what he wants.” He paused. “Maybe you ought to just give it to him.”
Nest shook her head. “I won’t do that. I already told him so.”
Pick sighed. “Well, no surprises there. Is John Ross with you on this?”
“Right to the bitter end.”
“Good choice of words. That’s likely how it will turn out.” Pick squirmed on her shoulder to get more comfortable. “Wish this was happening in the summer, when it was warmer. It would make my job a lot easier.”
She glanced down at him. “You be careful yourself, Pick.”
He snorted. “Hah! You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got eyes in the back of my head, and Jonathan’s got them in his wing tips. We’ll be safe enough. You just keep your own instincts sharp.”
She swallowed against the cold, moistening her lips. Some Chap Stick was definitely in order. “How come you call him Jonathan? And before that, it was Benjamin and Daniel. What kind of names are those for owls? Can’t you come up with something… I don’t know, not so common?”
He straightened, twiggy hands tightening in her collar. “Those names are only common to you, not to me. I’m a sylvan, remember? We don’t use names like Daniel and Benjamin and Jonathan in the normal course of things. Gripes! Try to remember, we’re not like you!”
“Okay, already.”
“Sometimes, you appall me.”
“All right!”
“Well, criminy!”
She trudged on into the snowy gloom, following the dark ribbon of the road as the snow slowly began to hide it away.
-=O=-***-=O=-
Findo Gask was surprised. The Indian was just standing there, watching them. He must have known they were following him, and yet he hadn’t tried to escape or hide. Why was that?
“Looky, looky, Gramps,” Penny teased. “Someone wants to play.”
Gask ignored her, slowing his approach to study his adversary. The Indian was bigger than he had looked earlier, his copper skin dark, his black hair damp and shiny, his eyes hard-edged and penetrating. He had dropped the bedroll and rucksack in the snow, as if anticipating the need to keep his hands free.
“Are you looking for me?” he rumbled softly.
Findo Gask stopped six yards away, close enough that he could see the other’s eyes, not so close that he was within reach of those big hands. The Indian did not look at Penny. He did not look to either side, where Twitch and the ur’droch had melted into the trees.
“Hey, Tonto,” Penny called out to him. “Remember me?”
Gask let his eyes shift momentarily. She was standing closer to the Indian than he was. She had knives in both hands, their metal blades glinting as she moved them in small circular motions.
The Indian glanced at her, then dismissed her with a shrug. “What is there worth remembering? You are a demon. I have seen many like you before.”
“Not like me,” she hissed at him.
The Indian looked back at Findo Gask. “Why do you waste my time? What do you want with me?”
Gask brought the leather book in front of him, gripping it with both hands. “What is your name?” he asked.
The Indian was as still as carved stone. “O’olish Amaneh, in the language of my people, the Sinnissippi. Two Bears, in the language of the English. But should you choose to speak my name, it will sear your tongue and scorch your throat all the way down to where your heart has turned to coal.”
Findo Gask gave him a considering look. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Twitch sliding along the fenceline behind the Indian, his movements smooth and silent in the snowfall, his big form barely visible. He could not see the ur’droch, concealed somewhere back in that spruce grove, but he knew it was there. Penny was giggling with anticipation. She was unpredictable, apt to do almost anything in a given situation, this one especially, and it made her useful.