ned with memory. And you cant help me. "
"Thats right. "
"Can you at least point the way back to Market Street?"
Shrike pointed back at the market with her cane. "Follow the stalls to the right until you come to a cafin an old railroad car. Youll see street car tracks just beyond. Follow them along the waterfront and theyll take you all the way to Market Street. "
"Thanks," said Spyder. "Good luck with your client. "
"Take care. You know, I forgot to ask you. Are you spider clan?"
"I have no idea what youre talking about. Which is probably the perfect note for us to part on. "
"Take care, pony boy. "
"Stay fast, Dirty Harry. "
Spyder walked slowly back to the market, following the route Shrike had described to him. He passed horse traders and what looked like a kind of sidewalk surgery, with a hand-lettered cardboard sign describing procedures, from amputations to nose jobs, along with prices. Spyder found the train car cafa few minutes later. He was colder now. His body ached from his injuries and his shoulders were knotted with tension. Somewhere in the dim back of his brain he knew he should be worried about the Clerks and what he was going to do with Lulu and how we was going to open up the shop tomorrow, but none of it got through the fog of exhaustion that was narrowing the universe to thoughts of walking and sleep.
At the edge of the market, by the last big dune, some teenagers were juggling fire without moving their hands. They stared silently and the balls of flame moved through the air all by themselves. Spyder started walking up the dune, when he heard someone call his name.
"Spyder, are you there? Its me
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