hope that he was safe, but he, too, was started on his own road now. It was the
two little ones who still needed her. How could Lalo manage them alone? Gilla
straightened with a motion as inevitable as a tidal wave rising to strike the
shore. She had to get home!
One of the undeads stumped up the stairs from the basement, wiping moist earth
on the remains of its tunic. Gilla wondered if Roxane’s wards extended
underground, but even to escape she could not bring herself to go down there.
The thing bumped into Snapper Jo, who snarled and shoved it away.
“Dead thing go back to earth!” The fiend pointed to the stairs.
“It is wet in the earth,” the corpse said dully. “Let this one go outside.”
“No, not outside-” Snapper Jo shook his head. “She says nothing must pass the
house shield now. Dead thing try, she finds worse place for it than there.!”
The tattered head turned, and Gilla could almost imagine she saw some emotion in
those blank eyes. Then it sagged a little and very slowly thumped back down the
creaking stairs.
Gilla sighed gustily to clear the stench from her nostrils when it was gone. She
had almost forgotten that this house held worse company than Snapper Jo.
“So you want me to be your Mama?” she asked grimly.
“Mama give boy fresh meat!” The fiend simpered, and Gilla swallowed sickly. She
had seen Snapper Jo’s table habits. They were not aesthetic. Once blood flowed
he became a mindless eating machine.
Mindless…. Somewhere in the depths of her own mind Gilla felt something stir.
She looked at Snapper Jo speculatively, and slowly began to sweep once more.