Wolf sat up in the nutrient bath. The viscous fluid ran down his dark sides, dripping into the tray. It fell from his wings like gravy from the bulk of a holiday fowl come suddenly and unappetizingly to life just before the ritual of carving.
Noname and Sebastian were to the right, half turned from the equipment, filling two glasses of unequal size. They did not seem to notice that Wolf was fully active. Or perhaps they did not care. In any event, he determined to make the most of the fortunate circumstances.
Noname giggled.
Wolf stood, raised his wings to full spread, tested them quietly. They were still damp, though he had no feathers to be clogged. The water and the nutrient salts suspended in it merely beaded on his dark skin like so many jewels.
Sebastian turned in that moment and raised his glass of black wine as if he were about to toast his work. Even though he saw the poised figure, toes curled over the edge of the metal shelf, body hunched forward, wings spread and at their arc, he did not stop smiling. Indeed, his smile seemed even to broaden, as if he were pleased at this exhibition of his handiwork.
Wolf leaped.
He flapped his wings furiously and sailed toward the door at the end of the truck cargo are,. It stood slightly ajar, rattling a bit as the cool wind caught it.
Sebastian turned, following the creature’s flight, still grinning and still ignorant of what the small, vampiric creature desired: freedom, escape, sanity.
Noname saw it first and shouted a warning. “He’s leaving!” Over and over again. “He’s leaving! He’s leaving!” As if the repetition and not the words themselves would set the idiot into action.
Wolf struck the door and battered it open without a great deal of effort since it was lightly hinged and welloiled. He struggled through, into the darkness of the late autumn night. In seconds, his wings had carried him so far that the two in the truck could no longer hear the soft echo of beating membrane.
A fog had settled in from the south, across the only stretch of fiat land, and now it hung between the trees like the mist that swept through Sebastian’s mind whenever he tried to concentrate too long or too hard on any single problem. Visibility was cut severely. Trees loomed up suddenly in front of them, like prehistoric behemoths. Out of nowhere, vines tangled in their feet, like grasping fingers, like snakes that wound about their victims and crushed them to death before devouring them. Here and there forest animals cried to one another, and the bursts of inhuman conversation made them start every minute or so, as if they did not know whether harmless animals or vicious demons made the sounds.
It had occurred to Sebastian that puppets could not go any farther from the Furnace than a few thousand feet without experiencing a harsh, bone-rending pain that drove them home. That meant that Wolf was not all lost, that they might discover him at any minute. He could not remember just how far a puppet could go, but he was certain they should have to search only a small area.
And still they found nothing.
For a moment, Sebastian bad considered letting the small beast go free, but he had soon realized that if anyone discovered it besides Ben Samuels-it would be a clue to their whereabouts. Even if they left and the thing were
found later, the police would know where to search for them. Wolf must be found, quickly, and returned to the
Furnace, or all could come tumbling swiftly down.
“Anything?” Sebastian asked Noname.
“Not here,” Noname said. The fog grew thicker the closer one got to the ground, and Sebastian could see nothing more than the top of the puppet’s head bobbling along beside him.
He was frightened -and he wanted to go back to the truck and lock the door and go to sleep and forget about Wolf. He didn’t want to be in the foggy, dark trees, stumbling around and not able to see where he was going. The fog reminded him of a spider’s web. And for the first time in a good many days, he remembered that the spider from the basement of the Grande Theater in Blue had gotten on the truck. It was here with them now, and it might have come out into the fog, behind them, stalking them.