“Supper’s ready!” Jerry said firmly. It wasn’t, quite, but he made them get the chairs around the table, while Killer carried Alan gently into the bedroom and laid him down, already asleep. Lacey was sleepy also, but insisted that she wanted some steak and made sure that she sat next to Killer.
Ariadne was feeling surprisingly better— perhaps it was the tea, or the coffee which Jerry had now produced, or perhaps it was an odd feeling of relief. She actually had an appetite, and the steak was good. She had reached…
“You did say that this was Canada?” she asked.
Jerry hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said. “All I said was that you had reached safety and you are among friends… I’m not quite so sure of the safety now, though.” The howling sounded again, close— real howls, not the yip-yippy stuff coyotes usually did. But of course coyotes could howl, too. Jerry and Killer exchanged glances, and their tension was obvious. They didn’t know coyotes and they didn’t know which side of the border they were on and they could heal teeth? There was no more conversation until they had finished eating.
Jerry tossed the dishes into a bowl and said loudly that they could wait until morning. Then he eyed Ariadne and said, “Do you feel up to playing a little music for us?”
“Yes, Mommy!” Lacey said, sensing another excuse to stay out of bed longer.
Ariadne looked thoughtfully at Jerry. “What makes you think I can play?”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Well?” She shrugged. “Yes. Once I could.” No need to poke old sores.
He smiled mysteriously. “There had to be some reason for that piano. Killer and I arrived about an hour before you did. We’ve never been here before, either.” He nodded to indicate Lacey. “I’ll try to explain shortly. But will you play for us? It’s well tuned.”
She shook her head. “I’m too tired.”
He could tell that it was in tune “You play something.” He smiled and carried one of the chairs over to the piano.
“I’ll go check on the mare,” Killer said and limped toward the door. He did not seek out the raincoat that Jerry had worn earlier, just left in his jeans and muscle shirt. She wondered where those raincoats had gone, for there were no closets in sight, only two small cupboards by the range.
Jerry looked up from his seat by the piano and laughed.
“He doesn’t enjoy harmony,” he said. “Anything closer than an octave is a discord to Killer. Ariadne, don’t let him scare you. He does take no for an answer.” So this was a private word, was it?
“Off to bed, young lady,” she said. “Mommy’ll come and give you a kiss in a minute. Don’t wake Alan.” Lacey stomped grumpily into the bedroom, shutting the door with a bang.
Jerry hesitated, a worried look on his angular face. “This is difficult.… I am going to tell you a very strange story. You will probably conclude that I am utterly crazy. Just believe that I don’t get violent, okay? I’m guaranteed harmless.”
She could believe that. “Is your friend?”
“Killer?” Jerry said, and chewed his lip. “Yes. He’s promiscuous as a goat, an Olympic-class lecher and proud of it, but he does take no for an answer. He won’t force you, because he’s too certain that you’ll yield on your own. So just say ‘No’ firmly. You’ll have to keep saying it, but it’ll work.”
“You implied earlier that he would prefer you.” He blushed scarlet. “He’d be quite happy to get either of us, and happier to have both. He’s a Greek and he has all the bad habits of the Greeks of his day, polished by four hundred years of practice. He’s not serious at the moment, because he’s on duty. You should see him when he is serious. I’ve been saying ‘No’ to Killer about once a week for forty years.” There it was— four hundred years, forty years— he’d associated himself with the line that Killer had been shooting. She couldn’t think of a sane reply to such insanity. Jerry, sensing the tension, suddenly grinned, revealing a sense of fun under the formality and the odd shyness.
“Of course, you could try saying ‘Yes’ and see what happens. He wouldn’t bother you afterward— not for a while, anyway.”
“No, thank you,” she said firmly. “He’s either too young for me— or much too old.”
He chuckled. “One lady of my acquaintance insists that Killer is a unique experience. Like being run over by a slow freight, she says, every wheel.” The rain continued to drum on the roof unceasingly. She perched on the arm of the sofa. “The sixty-ninth Olympiad?” she said.
The yellow-haired man frowned. “I shouldn’t have pushed that; he’s never been that specific before. Give or take a year, Ariadne, Killer was born in 500 BC.” She just looked at him. There was nothing to reply to that.
He shrugged. “Okay, I warned you! I don’t mean that he’s twenty-five hundred years old. Time in Mera doesn’t run with time Outside, but he’s been there about four hundred years, as well as he can estimate. I was born in 1914. I’ve lived in Mera for forty years more or less, which makes me about seventy. I don’t know what year it is here, now, but I suspect I’m close to being on time but that’s just coincidence. I have been a long way downtime on some trips Out.”
“You’ve dropped a couple of years,” she said, as calmly as she could.
He sighed. “I’ve had broken legs heal in three days in Mera, and obviously— obviously if you believe us— we don’t age. You saw Killer’s teeth, Ariadne; if those were faked, then we’ve gone to a lot of trouble to fool you, haven’t we?” She shook her head, too confused to think.
“Were there trees on that road when you came in?” he asked. “We got here right at dusk, and there wasn’t a tree in sight, just a hedge. Now there’s no hedge but a forest. It’s faerie— magic. It has to be, Ariadne.”
“I’m punchy,” she said. “I’d been driving all day, and now this… I can’t think straight.”
He nodded sympathetically. “Go off to bed, then. Bolt the door. Don’t open the window. Don’t even open the drapes if someth… someone taps on it. Killer and I will be out here, so take whichever room you want, with the kids or the other. Come and get us if you need anything— we shan’t be sleeping. Warn Lacey about the window. Use the pots under the bed, I’m afraid— it isn’t safe to go out now.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Not just coyotes?”
Jerry shook his head. “It’s all part of the Mera thing. There are… opposing forces. They can’t attack Mera itself, or they haven’t so far, but they try to prevent anyone else getting in. We come to ‘rescue’ you, as we call it. You admitted you’re running from someone…”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “And we shall offer you the chance to come back with us. If you come, you will be invited to stay. You can refuse either offer. Nobody’s forcing you, neither here nor there. But the other side doesn’t want you to have the chance and they would love to get their talons on Killer and me— especially Killer. If those are coyotes out there, they sound more like wolves than wolves do. Before dawn there may be worse. So, ‘Watch the wall, my darling.’ ” There was something very likable about this diffident, soft-spoken maniac, unless fatigue was rotting her judgment.
“Kipling,” she said. ” ‘Watch the wall my darling, while the gentlemen go by.’ ”
He smiled, pleased and surprised. “You win a cigar! Try this, then: