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extinct," she lied. "Very rare."
"Huh." The old man turned away from her, and she was surprised how relieved
she was that those vivid green eyes were looking at something else. The comers
of his mouth curled up in a smile, and he said, "I reckon that's it"
They rode in silence for a while. Minerva cast die occa-
sional covert look at her compass, but it continued to line up exactly with
the direction in which they moved. She setded back, determined to enjoy the
ride.
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The old man said, "So where yer heading for, you?"
"Don't know precisely," she told him. "I'm looking for something."
"Then, what yer looldn' for?"
Minerva shrugged. "I don't know that, yet, either. I guess
I'H know it when I see it."
The old man scratched behind his ear, and Minerva was surprised at how big his
hands were, and how sharp the claws that tipped them. Uneasiness setded around
her like a cloak. It was all very well to think that die compass led her to
dus man, but she couldn't help but wish he looked less the part of die aging
werewolf. She felt too much like
Red Riding Hood for her own comfort. What big eyes you have, she thought. And
big ears, and sharp daws, and big teeth...
He grinned over at her. Pace on, it was not a delightful grin. Not charming.
Somewhat less than utterly pleasing.
She'd seen the likes on pictures of hyenas. "We'll be in
Weezfield in just a few minutes," he said. "You see whatcher lookin' for
there, you let me know. I stop for yer. Iffin not,
I'm going all the way to Weirds' Hold today Gotta drop off my kaldebeasts widi
die buyer up diat way. Yer welcome to come along. I don't often get any
company deliverin' stock.
Not even critters such as yerself."
Minerva smiled a strained smile, but die best she could manage at die moment.
"Thank you. I do appreciate that."
She took a deep breath. Tm not actually a ah, critter. My name's Min er,
Jean." She felt the sudden compulsion to keep some things secret.
MINERVA WAKES
191
"Minnerjean. Huh! Well, I'm Lorcus." The old man shrugged. That's a right
pretty name for a critter. But all you folks is so danged touchy about bein'
called cntters. What you want to be called dien, Minnerjean?"
"People?"
"People. It figgers. You and danged dragons and topers and kaldebeasts, too,
more'n likely everybody wants to be people. Well, Minnerjean, yer can't be
born a critter and then rum people. You got to be born people." His smile when
he looked at her that time was touched widi conde-
scension. "But there ain't notiiing wrong widi bein' a critter, honey. You
just got to know your place is all."
Minerva bit her tongue. She would have loved to slap die old farmer down but
she didn't know the rules in dlis world, didn't know die place of women in
general, or of female "critters" in particular. So she said nodimg, and
stewed.
They came into a village evidendy Weezfield, diough she could not read the
sign planted askew on the hillock before die village proper. The place was
quaint, with single-
story plaster houses painted in every conceivable pastel hue.
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Each house had a blue tile roof, and a bright red basket-
weave fence about two feet high around the tiny yard. The houses were close
togetiier, with dirt paths beaten into die blue-gray earth between them.
The open market square in die center of town was busy the inhabitants herded
flocks of well, of somediing.
Minerva didn't have die foggiest idea what sorts of flocks diose were. Girls
chased after waddling four-legged duck-
iike beasts, while the curly-homed creatures Lorcus had earber identified as
kaldebeasts stood in the middle of die road, staring stupidly at hairy
jade-green beasts which hopped past, kangaroo-like, on their hind legs
She took an instant to check her direction on her com-
pass, and shouted, "Oh, stop! Stop!"
The old man hit his brake, and Minerva nearly went through die windshield.
"What's the matter, Minnerjean?"
Minerva puiled her duffel bag onto her lap, preparatory to jumping out of die
truck. "I have to go that way," she said,
192 Holly Usie
and pointed to a cobbled road that twisted through the mar-
ketplace and off to the right.
"Well, that's the way I'm going, too. If yefll just be patient " He grinned
straight at her again, and she tried to reconcile his cheery demeanor and
friendliness with all those teeth. And daws. Mustn't forget the claws- "We'll
get past the herds and the flocks soon enough. That's Old Stone-
man's Road. Goes to Weirds' Hold. Bit of a ride, but I'm goin' that way. Yer
sure welcome."
There didn't seem to be any reason to insist on walking.
The man made her nervous, but not nervous in die way she would have equated
with, for example, being around known sex offenders. There was nothing slimy
about him. She came to the conclusion her anxiety was simply caused by being
faced with someone so different. He probably feels nervous around me, too. She
sighed. 'Thanks. If you're sure you don't mind, then, I'll stick with you."
The cobblestone part of the road only lasted to the end of the town. Then it
became flat cut paving stones laid out in a single raised lane. The shoulders
widened at regular intervals to allow the larger vehicles to pass each other.
Old
Stoneman's Road, she discovered, was much more lightly traveled than the road
she and Lorcas had just left. Her uneasy feeling got worse. Lorcas had grown
silent as the vil-
lage fell away behind them, and she didn't feel up to keeping a conversation
going.
The terrain, which had been a steeply hilled and heavily farmed piedmont,
became flatter, and the farms farther apart. Rolling meadows gave way to large
marshy areas, and the road became a causeway for long stretches. She stared
out at the countryside that flashed past her, at fens and bracken thickets and
boggy lakes.
They rode over streams, and then two foir-si2ed rivers, and Minerva was glad
she hadn't tried to walk. On foot, she would have made an easy target, if any
of the flying thin^
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