Alex Bledsoe - The Sword-Edged blonde

Callie leaned across the bar, oblivious to the view it gave of her cleavage. “Well, open it, Mr. LaCrosse,” she said impatiently. “Maybe you’re being courted.”

I broke the seal and withdrew the note. On scented paper, I read:

I hope this note, and gift, find you well and happy. I can’t explain this, but I feel very strongly that the woman delivering this to you is someone you should meet. It’s almost like she’s somehow meant to right something that was once done wrong. I know this doesn’t make any sense, but I trust that, after all we’ve been through, you can handle one more bit of strangeness. My love always.

It was signed, Ree.

I folded the note, put it back in its envelope and placed it on the counter. Liz scooted the big covered object down the bar toward me. “And then I have to give you this,” she said.

I removed the cloth to reveal a birdcage. Inside was one of the tiny shimmering birds I’d seen around Epona, and Rhiannon, and in my dreams. It looked plump and healthy, and flitted among the perches as, no longer covered, it began to sing.

“A bird,” Angelina said, surprised and a little disappointed. “Somebody sent you a bird.”

“Oh, he’s adorable,” Callie said, and began whistling to it.

“I’m kind of fond of him, too,” Liz said as she watched the bird’s antics. “So take good care of him. I’ve had lots worse company.”

“Aw,” Angelina teased, “is’m got a wittle fwiend now?”

“Apparently,” I agreed, and bent to look more closely. Even inside the cage, it moved so quickly I couldn’t see any real details, except that whenever it moved, the air seemed to momentarily sparkle in the space it left behind.

“So what’re you going to do with him?” Angelina asked. “Because if you expect me to clean up bird shit while you’re gone on one of your ‘jobs,’ you’re lickin’ up the wrong thigh.”

“I’d never lick up your thigh, Angel, you know that. I’d just taste all that other spit.”

She clutched her chest as if stabbed, but her eyes twinkled.

I picked up the cage and walked to the door. I propped it open, unlatched the cage and waited. The bird fluttered inside for a moment, then shot through the opening and vanished into the sky. A moment later I saw it hovering near one of the apple trees beside the road.

I shut the door and went back to the bar. The three women looked at me. I shrugged. “If he wants to stay around, he can stay around.”

Angelina sighed and shook her head. She asked Liz, “Are all your jobs this strange?”

Liz laughed. “Some are even weirder.” She cut her eyes at me, and I felt a jolt deep in my chest. Liz’s bangs fell onto her face, and she tucked them behind her ear with a cocky, adorable little grin. Then, just as she turned away, I swear I saw her cheeks flush red.

I smiled.

Liz finished her drink and produced another sheet of vellum from her pocket. She didn’t meet my eyes when she handed it to me and said, “So if you’ll just sign this receipt, I’ll be on my way.”

I took it, Angelina produced a quill and ink bottle from behind the bar, and I was about to sign it when I stopped. “Wait. You can’t get paid the rest of your money unless I sign this, can you?”

She sighed; I wasn’t the first recipient to point this out. “No, but you’re gonna sign it because it’s the right thing to do.” She looked at me, her eyes tired and pleading. “Okay?”

“Yeah, of course I’ll sign it,” I agreed as I folded it. “But not until we’ve have some lunch.”

“Ohhh, no,” Liz said instantly; I wasn’t the first recipient to try this, either. “If you’re gonna give me a hard time, I’ll take my chances convincing my client. Besides, if she truly knows you, I bet she won’t be surprised.”

“Ah, Eddie ain’t so bad,” Angelina said. “A little lazy, but otherwise, he’s a decent guy.”

“And he always says nice things to me,” Callie added.

I winked and flipped Callie a coin, then returned my attention to Liz. “Come on. Could a guy who gets sent little birds really be dangerous?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully, and looked so much like her late sister it was spooky. I knew she wasn’t Cathy, of course; one woman couldn’t replace another. But something Epona had said about Cathy came back to me: She’s close to what you need, closer than you can imagine. But she’s not the right one. Who was I to argue with a goddess?

“All right, you’ve got a point,” Liz said. “But just lunch. I’m a busy gal, and I can’t spend all day in Neceda.” Then she laughed. “Damn, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Ah, all my dates say that,” I said.

She laughed again. It was a good laugh, full of promise. A hell of a laugh if you thought about it.