“I ain’t going to lie under oath,” said Arthur Stuart.

“Don’t lie, just refuse to answer,” said Alvin.

“That’s when they torture you,” said Verily. “When you refuse to say yes or no.”

“Well, they hang you when you say yes,” said Alvin, “and I ain’t heard of them just letting you go if you deny it.”

“If you don’t answer, you can die without ever going to trial.”

Alvin began to chuckle. “Well, now I get it. You want to go to trial. This ain’t about Purity or being in love or any such thing. You want to take on the witch laws.”

“Well I don’t,” said Mike Fink. “I sure don’t have to answer under oath when someone asks me if I ever served Satan.”

“It seems to me,” said Alvin, “that if you want to have your day in court, Verily, you ought to do it as a lawyer, and not as a defendant.”

“And you oughtn’t to drag along folks as don’t want to stand trial,” said Mike.

“Not that any harm would come to any of us,” said Alvin.

Audubon threw his arms heavenward. “Listen to him! Alvin has the... hubris. He think he can save everybody.”

“I can,” said Alvin. “That’s just a fact.”

“Then let’s stay around and save her,” said Arthur Stuart. “We don’t have to get arrested to do that.”

“I want to do more than save her body from death,” said Verily.

“Please don’t tell us what more you want to do to her body,” said Audubon.

Verily ignored him. “I want her to learn the truth about her parents and about herself. I want her to be proud of her knack. I want her to come join us in building the Crystal City.”

“Those are all good things to want,” said Alvin. “But just at this moment I have a keen memory of the months I spent in jail back in Hatrack River, and I got to say I don’t wish even an hour in such a place for any of this company.”

“Yes! The wisdom of Solomon!” cried Audubon.

“Which ain’t to say I don’t see your point, too, Very,” said Alvin. “And as for you, Arthur Stuart, I can see as how a young man like you sees a damsel walking straight to the dragon’s lair and he’s plain got to draw his sword.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Arthur.

“Saint George,” said Alvin. “And the dragon.”

“The boy will not let me to kill birds,” said Audubon, “but dragons.”

Mike Fink looked puzzled. “Ain’t no dragons around here.”

“Fall in line behind me,” said Alvin, “and say nothing, and touch nothing, and don’t stray from the path I mark.”

“So you’ll leave her to their mercy,” said Verily.

“I promise you, Very,” said Alvin, “you’ll get everything you want.”

Verily nodded. Alvin looked at Arthur Stuart, wordlessly making him the same promise, and the boy also nodded.

They all lined up behind him on the riverbank. Alvin started off walking, then picked up his pace, jogging along, then loping, then flat-out running. At first the others worked hard at it, but then they began to hear a kind of music, not with instruments, not the kind you sing or dance to, but the sound of wind in leaves and birds singing, the chatter of squirrels and the buzz of insects, the high white sizzle of sunlight striking the dew on the leaves, the languid rush of water vapor distilling into the air. The sound of their footfalls merged with the music and the world around them turned into a blur of green, which contained every leaf, every tree, every bit of earth, and made them all one thing; and the runners were part of that one thing, and their running was part of the song, and the leaves parted to let them pass, and the air cooled them and the streams bore them over without their feet getting wet and instead of growing legsore or ribstitched they felt exhilarated, full of the life around them. They could run like that forever.