“How should
And how the heck could they sleep in these damned beds? They made his back hurt.
He really should be getting the heck out. These humans weren’t going to be pleased to find him.
“Of course they must have been kids. Nothing’s missing! The TV, the VCR, the stereo … everything’s here! Fred?
“Well, it’s just the thought of somebody breakin’ in here. Did you call the police?”
“Not yet.”
“What? Cheezus, do I have to do everything myself?”
Snowclaw was getting tired of listening to the commotion downstairs. He wasn’t
Snowy turned over. A small human female was standing at the foot of the bed, regarding him with baleful blue eyes.
“Hi,” he said. “Don’t tell your folks I’m here, okay? They wouldn’t understand. Sorry for messing up your bed, but … Where’re you going?”
The little girl went to the head of the stairs.
“Mommy!”
There was no answer. Snowy sat up, and regretted it.
“Mommy!”
“Jennifer, what in blazes do you want? Can’t you see Mommy’s busy?”
“There’s a big bear in my bed.”
“Jennifer, don’t start with me.”
“There is. There’s a big white bear and he’s got big teeth and white claws. He talked to me.”
“Fred, go up and see what the hell that kid is talking about.”
“She’s got a big bear in her bed, that’s what she’s talking about. How come these goddamn cops don’t answer their goddamn phone? They’ll pull you over for goin’ two miles above the limit, but when it comes to —”
“Mommy!”
“Jennifer, I am going to
Snowy put his head down and dozed off for what he thought was just a second or two. When he snapped awake and sat up again, the big male human was staring at him goggle-eyed from the doorway.
Snowy burped, then said, “I can explain….”
The man disappeared. Snowy got up unsteadily and made for the window. It wouldn’t budge, so he broke through it and went out onto the icy roof of the kitchen wing, doing a high-wire act along the apex. When he was halfway across, he looked back. The guy was aiming a gun at him.
Snowy’s foot slipped a split second before the shotgun let loose with a bang and a flash.
The next thing Snowy knew, he was on the ground, entangled in a copse of rhododendrons. Thrashing frantically, he extricated himself and struggled to his feet. He took off across the lawn.
Another blast shattered the night, and a bee-swarm of shot buzzed past Snowy’s head.
Then, suddenly, there was something in front of him, a strange aircraft. It made no sound, hovering about ten feet off the ground. A hatch opened up at the side of the thing.
Someone poked his head out. “Snowy, come on!”
It was Gene! Without breaking stride, Snowclaw took one mighty leap and hooked an arm inside the hatch. With Gene’s unnecessary help, he scrambled up the bell-shaped hull and dove in.
It was a tight squeeze inside the compartment. Linda was there, along with the new kid, Jeremy.
“Okay, we got him!”
“Roger,” Jeremy said, confident at the controls. The laptop computer was taped to the instrument panel in front of him. He punched a few keys.
“Uh, fellas?” Linda said. “There’s a guy with a gun out there.”
Jeremy said, “Hold on a minute. I’m going to jump directly back to the castle.”
“But he’s going to —”
The shotgun roared again, and buckshot spanged off the
Snowclaw said, “How did you find me?”
“Magic,” Gene said.
Snowy sighed. “What else.” Then a sudden gust of nausea rose in him. “Gene buddy?”
“What?”
“Could you move over a little?”
“There’s no room. Why, what’s wrong?”
“I’m going to be sick.”
Forty-one
Sheila’s World
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…. But that is another story.
This particular tale is almost done, but for the wrapping up. It’s been a long concerto, and the soloist has one more cadenza in him, if the audience will allow, in which the them is restated for the benefit of those who’ve drowsed, wonder-weary, through the third movement —
“Life-styles of the infamous plutocrats!”
Gene raised his glass and toasted the palms, the cabanas, the tennis courts, the swimming pools, and the terraces. He threw in the sky, the surf, and the cute barmaid who had just served him a banana daiquiri.
“To decadence and high living. The only way to go.”
He drank.
“When is Incarnadine coming?” Linda asked, rolling over to let the tropical sun start toasting her back.
“He should be here any moment,” Trent said, lifting his shades to glance at his watch.
Sheila said, “Trent, do you think he’ll come?”
“I don’t see why not. He needs a vacation.”
“But so soon after … you know.”
“It’s been a couple of weeks since the funeral. I’m over my grief.” Trent sipped his Singapore sling. “Such as it was.”
“The funeral was so beautiful,” Sheila said. “The pageantry, the music alone. What was that beautiful piece they played as they took the casket away?”
“‘Pavane pour une Infante defunte.’ One of Inky’s favorite pieces.”
“Lovely.”
“It is that.”
Thaxton and Cleve Dalton came stumping in from the golf course. Thaxton threw down his bag and snapped his fingers at a waitress. “Anyone for tennis? After I’ve had one or two or three drinks, of course.”
“I’m pooped,” Dalton said, easing himself into a deck chair. “Getting old.”
“Mr. Dalton,” Sheila said, “you look younger every time I see you.”
“It’s the curative balm of your enchanting aura, Sheila my dear. You radiate magic.”
“Oh, really.”
“Look at this place! It’s Palm Beach, Club Med, and the Riviera all rolled into one. And it’s a conjuration entire!”
Gene asked, “Sheila, what about all these other people in the hotel? I mean the guests, not the staff. They’re not castle Guests. At least I’ve never seen them before.”
“I don’t know who they are,” Sheila said. “They seem to have come with the spell. It would be kind of empty
