"I'll give her a drop of wine, if that's all right. She's got a good palate. Never smoked, you see."

Miranda laughed, musically, like a girl. Connor looked at her closely. She was old, but he quite fancied her. She bent and smoothed Viv over and Viv beamed. Then Miranda took the real jade bowl off the -table and put Zinfandel in it for Viv. The dog lapped. She was delighted.

Someone died on the screen.

"Yeah!" bellowed Whisper.

An oldish man came in, carrying a big tankard of beer on a tray. Cardiff grabbed.

"Watch it," said Connor.

"Thanks," said Connor to the oldish man, who was not actually really old at all, only gray-haired.

The man went out.

Connor said to Miranda, "Ever been on a bike?"

"No," said Miranda. "In my day it was horses."

"It's like a horse," said Connor. "A horse that has wings."

"Why—" said Miranda, "how exciting."

Her eyes were glorious. Black as buggered night.

She was a queen of the green hills, and he could sit at her slippered feet with his harp, if he only played one.

"If ever you want to try," said Connor, "I'm your man."

Secretively, the way the women did, she lowered her eyes, and Connor thought of riding with Miranda, and those slim pale hands around his big middle.

"The last time I rode on a horse," said Miranda, "was to a wedding feast. The bride was dressed in blue, and there was a big cake colored by saffron, the shape of a hand holding a key. The things one remembers."

"Some foreign wedding," said Connor.

"Oh, yes. In Italy. My name wasn't Miranda then, you know. That came later, from a play."

Connor felt a wide crevice opening before him, and he was almost eager to drop into it, but something stayed him. The raven goddess, the dark-eyed Morigan. Best beware.

Red said, "Connor, he's here. This is him, isn't it?"

She had confided long ago that she did not care for young men. At Cambridge she had had an affair with a scholar sixty years of age. She had wrapped him in her copper hair.

Connor looked around, and in the doorway was Camillo.

He looked young tonight. Maybe too young for Red. But no. The ancient eyes were still there, looking out.

"Here you are," said Camillo. "Is it time then? It must be."

"Whatever you say," said Connor.

Viv barked lightly. And Camillo knelt down. Viv went to him and they greeted each other.

"On your feet," Connor said to the TV addicts. They got up and clustered around. He brought Red forward. "See what I have here."

Camillo looked up, slyly.

Red smiled, showing her even white teeth.

"Not a bimbo this time," said Connor. "Red has studied history. She's ridden a long way to meet you."

Camillo stood up again. He looked at Red, with his head to one side.

"I'm an old man," said Camillo, skittishly.