Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Fog swirled through the golden bars. It was thick enough to travel across the thighs of the four prisoners as they sat on the floor of the cage.
"Can you eat chocolate?" Lydia asked Thorson. She was rifling through her candy bucket. Nate and Maeve silently looked on.
"Yes," he answered. "I'm not an actual dog." Lydia found the triple-chocolate brownie from Miss Fabienne. It was big. It was heavy as a brick. So good. But she was declaring peace. And that called for a grand gesture. She gave it to him. Put it right into the palm of his hand. And didn't snatch her own hand back as if she were playing with a hot griddle, too.
Thorson smiled at her as he took the offering. "Thank you."
She went a little red. "Do you miss your actual dog?" she asked. "Lili?" she prompted in case he'd forgotten.
"I do miss Lili." He unwrapped the brownie and offered her a bite. She took a corner. He took the other corner. "If I don't get back to my body she'll probably eat it."
"She wouldn't do that," Lydia protested immediately. "She's a good dog."
They chewed together. "Wow, this is good!"
"Yeah."
Nate and Maeve nudged each other and grinned. Lydia could've killed them both. She shared a weary look with Thorson and he nodded. He understood. Good.
"Speaking of Lili," he said. "Sometimes I can't take her with me. She's a sweet girl but she thinks she's bigger than she is. She'll take on anything and anyone."
Lydia imagined the little dog rushing a mad gang of bank robbers, all with striped suits and machine guns. "That's dangerous!"
"That is. Will you dog-sit for me from time to time?"
Lydia grinned.
"For how much?" Nate broke in.
Thorson laughed. "Five bucks a day."
"She'll take it."
"Can I walk her?" Lydia bounced on her rear in excitement.
Thorson nodded. "You better, or there'll be little puddles all over the place."
Lydia got it. "Pee!"
"Finally," Nate said. "One of us found a job." He turned to smile at his wife. She had her head in her hands. "Aw, honey." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
The sound of boot steps slowly walking across stone sounded. They looked up. Fisk appeared out of the fog. He looked confused and angry.
Lydia sniffed the air. Her eyes popped wide. "I smell something," she whispered.
"What?" Maeve whispered back.
"Our leaves, Mama. Burning leaves."
"What?"
Thorson raised his head and breathed in deep. "I don't smell anything."
Fisk reached the cage and gripped the ornate bars. "On your feet," he said. He was grim. He looked over his shoulder and his face smoothed into a calm mask as he turned back. "Have you noticed?" he said, oh, so calmly. "This place is strange."
A shooting star lit up the sky. Fisk followed it with his odd eyes. The metal under his hands began to smoke.