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the open. Frederick grimaced.
    “There’s
something in the air,” he agreed. “But nothing I can point to and
say—there it is, that’s what’s coming. Do you want to spring
the trap on this one, or let her come to our hands of her own will?”
    “If
we trap her, we lose her,” Isabelle told him, turning away from the
window. “And while we are ingathering Talents, they are all very young.
Whatever is going to happen will not happen this week, or even this year. Let
her come to us on her own—or not at all.”
    ***
    “How
is your mother?” Sarah asked, one day as they sat in the garden, since
the day before, Nan had confessed that Aggie been “on a tear” and
had consumed, or so Nan feared, something stronger and more dangerous than gin.
    Nan
shook her head. “I dunno,” she replied reluctantly. “Aggie
didn’ wake up when I went out. Tha’s not roight, she us’lly
at least waked up’t’foind out wha‘ I got. She don’ loik
them baskets, ‘cause it means I don’ go beggin’ as
much.”
    “And
if you don’t beg money, she can’t drink,” Sarah observed
shrewdly. “You hate begging, don’t you?”
    “Mostly
I don’ like gettin’ kicked an’ cursed at,” Nan
temporized. “It ain’t loik I’m gettin’
underfoot…”
    But
Sarah’s questions were coming too near the bone tonight, and Nan
didn’t want to have to deal with them. She got to her feet and picked up
her basket. “I gotter go,” she said abruptly.
    Sarah
rose from her seat on the bench and gave Nan a penetrating look. Nan had the
peculiar feeling that the child was looking at her thoughts, and deciding
whether or not to press her further. “All right,” Sarah said.
“It is getting dark.”
    It
wasn’t, but Nan wasn’t about to pass up the offer of a graceful
exit. “ ‘Tis, that,” she said promptly, and squeezed through
the narrow opening Karamjit had left in the gate.
    But
she had not gone four paces when two rough-looking men in shabby tweed jackets
blocked her path. “You Nan Killian?” said one hoarsely. Then when
Nan stared at him blankly, added, “Aggie Killian’s girl?”
    The
answer was surprised out of her; she hadn’t been expecting such a
confrontation, and she hadn’t yet managed to sort herself out.
“Ye—es,” she said slowly.
    “Good,”
the first man grunted. “Yer Ma sent us; she’s gone’t‘ a
new place, an’ she wants us’t‘show y’ the way.”
    Now,
several thoughts flew through Nan’s mind at that moment. The first was
that, as they were paid up on the rent through the end of the week, she could
not imagine Aggie ever vacating before the time was up. The second was, that
even if Aggie had set up somewhere else, she would never have sent a pair of
strangers to find Nan. And third was that Aggie had turned to a more potent
intoxicant than gin—which meant she would need a deal more money. And
Aggie had only one thing left to sell.
    Nan.
    Their
minds were such a roil that she couldn’t “hear” any distinct
thoughts, but it was obvious that they meant her no good.
    “Wait
a minnit—” Nan said, her voice trembling a little as she backed
away from the two men, edging around them to get to the street.
“Did’jer say Aggie Killian’s gel? Me ma ain’t called
Killian, yer got th‘ wrong gel—”
    It
was at that moment that one of the men lunged for her with a curse. He had his
hands nearly on her, and would have gotten her, too, except for one bit of
interference. Sarah came shooting out of the gate like a little bullet. She
body-slammed the fellow, going into the back of his knees and knocking him
right off his feet. She danced out of the way as he fell, scooting past him in
the nick of time, ran to Nan, and caught her hand, tugging her toward the
street. “Run!” she commanded imperiously, and Nan ran.
    The
two of them scrabbled through the dark alleys and twisted streets without any
idea where they were, only that they had to shake off their pursuers.
Unfortunately,