ze chair that looked like it was intended more as a decoration than a functional piece of furniture, was a pale, small man in a brown suit at least two sizes too small for him.
"Who are you?" asked Spyder, hoping he wasnt about to start the whole dream over again.
The man stood up and made a small, stiff bow. "I am Primo Kosinski. I have been sent to fetch the Butcher Bird to Madame Cinders home. "
Spyder shook Shrike, then realized she was already awake and playing possum. "I heard him come in," she said. "I just wanted a little more sleep. "
"I am to bring you to Madame Cinders at your earliest convenience. " The words rushed out of the little mans mouth in a high, breathy voice.
"We heard you the first time," Shrike said. She snuggled closer to Spyder. "Im not a morning person. "
"Its afternoon, maam. "
"Damn," she said. "All right. "
The little man remained standing as Spyder crawled out of bed and began to look for his clothes. Primos attention was anxious and unnerving. Like what a herd dog must make a sheep feel like, Spyder thought. "Would you sit the hell down and relax?" asked Spyder.
"Certainly. " Primo sat, but it didnt help much. He perched on the edge of the little chair, his attention as keen as ever. "And close your eyes while she dresses," Spyder added. The little man closed his eyes and covered them with his hands.
"I dont care," said Shrike. "Its not like theres anything here worth lusting after right now. " Spyder knew how she felt. Whatever kind of wine theyd been drinking, it left him light-headed, clumsy and oddly forgetful. Even when he found hi
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