“I still don’t have Golden Boy,” she said coldly.
Stumblecat walked over and smiled down at her. “Ah, but you do. He doesn’t seem to understand us. I think he had some sort of empathic link with you, or Hal, or both. Join us, Starlady, and you’ll have him every night.”
“Hey!” Hal said, angrily.
“All right,” said Janey.
He looked at her shocked. “Janey,” he said. “You’re spinning wobbly. I killed him for you, Starlady, my Starlady. Like you wanted.”
“That’s what Mayliss wanted, Hal,” she said, standing. “I just wanted Golden Boy. And I’m going to have him. He’s not like the rest of you. He’s still clean, and kind, and I love him.” She smiled.
“But,” said Hal. “But, Starlady, Hal hums—I love, you. What about me?”
“What about you?” Starlady said.
And she went off with Stumblecat, to find her Golden Boy.
* * *In the end, some of them were dead. The rest survived.
Fast-Friend
BRAND woke in darkness, trembling, and called out. His angel came to him.
She floated above him, smiling, on wings of soft gauze gold. Her face was all innocence, the face of a lovely girl-child, softness and light and wide amber eyes and honeyed hair that moved sinuously in free-fall. But her body was a woman’s, smooth and slim and perfect; a toy woman fashioned on a smaller scale.
“Brand,” she said, as she hovered above his sleep-web. “Will you show me the fast-friends today?”
He smiled up at her, his dreams fading. “Yes, angel,” he said. “Yes, today, I’m sure of it. Now come to me.”
But she moved back when he reached for her, coy, teasing. Her blush was a creeping tide of gold, and her hair danced in silken swirls. “Oh, Brand,” she said. Then, as he cursed and reached to unsnap his web, she giggled at him and pouted. “You can’t have me,” she said, in her child’s voice. “I’m too little.”