“Dunbar isn’t like that,” Neil said.

The kitchen door opened and Harry came out, holding a torn piece of brown envelope in his hand.

“Have they found them?” asked Neil. “Have they told you if Toby’s all right?”

Harry squinted at his scribbled notes. “They’ve found them. The bus is up at Lake Berryessa, where it was supposed to be. A Highway Patrol car spotted it parked on the bridge over Pope Creek.”

“Parked on the bridge? What was it doing there?” asked Neil. “Did they say where the children were?”

Harry nodded. “The children are inside the bus. When the Highway Patrol officers tried to drive up close to see what was wrong, their patrol car caught fire and exploded. One of the officers is suffering from serious burns.”

“Oh God,” said Neil. “It’s started.”

“You’re damn right it’s started,” said Harry. “That must have been Master Andy Beaver at work. The automotive arsonist.”

Singing Rock said, “The boy called Andy Beaver is harboring the Paiute medicine man Broken Fire. I think so, anyway. He was the only child who referred to the day of the dark stars as the day of the mouth coming from the sky, which is an expression that only the Paiutes ever used. And, of course, he has Broken Fire’s talent for setting things ablaze at a distance.”

“Broken Fire?” asked Harry. “Was he strong?”

Singing Rock laid a hand on his shoulder. “One of the strongest, I’m afraid. The only possible weaknesses he had were an inability to appease the demons of cholera and disease, and no talent for saving the souls of his people who had been sent to the great outside by drinking too much whiskey, or by falling under iron horses. In other words, he was a master of every occult event except those which stemmed from things the white men had done—like spreading diseases, and building railroads, and distilling alcohol.”

Neil said, “For Christ’s sake don’t let’s stand here discussing the situation. Let’s get out there.”

“Neil’s right,” put in Harry. “If the Highway Patrol starts getting upset, they’re going to bring their guns out, and that’s going to be no fun for anyone. Especially them.”

“Very well,” nodded Singing Rock. “Can you bring my suitcase, Harry? And Neil—if you have any beer or soft drinks, and any cookies or cold cuts, then bring them along. It’s going to be the hardest night you ever went through.”

“Let’s just hope it isn’t the hardest and the last,” said Harry, pushing open the kitchen door.

*