“That was really what I meant, when I was talking about the people Rod Calligan”—she avoided calling Calligan Toni’s “husband”—“might have gotten angry at him. The mi-ah-luschka have no sense of honor, since many of them died without honor. Anything and anyone is a lawful target, to them. In fact, they are sadistic enough that they might well choose to prolong the punishment they intend for him by—by hurting the things around Rod Calligan before they touch him.”

Toni fingered her swollen lip. “What—what if Rod hurt those things himself?” she asked, finally. “Wouldn’t they think he didn’t care about them?”

Jennie shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. Toni, I have to tell you, many men beat women because they look on their spouses as possessions, theirs to do with as they please. As long as Rod Calligan thinks of you as his possession, you are still a good target, so far as the mi-ah-luschka are concerned.”

She had avoided as many of the complications as she could; eliminated the suspicion that Rod himself was to blame for many, if not all, of the “accidents” at his site. And she eliminated mentioning that Rod seemed to be protected from the direct revenge of the spirits. She concentrated instead on what she knew but could not prove; that he had looted the sacred ground, that the Little People were angry and out for blood. His, and that of anyone connected with him. “These things that have been happening are exactly the kind of things the mi-ah-luschka are good at. And if you’ve had other kinds of accidents, well—they’re experts at arranging that kind of thing.”

She did not mention the dead child, although the place around the television set was so full of the influence of the Little People that she was catching after-images out of the corner of her eye every time she looked through the doorway.

Toni nodded all through the narrative; hesitantly at first, then more and more eagerly. Finally, as Jennie finished, she asked another question.

“These spirits—” she said. “If you can see them, do they look like people? Real people, I mean? Solid?”

“Sometimes,” David said slowly, trading a look with Jennie.

“Do they look like Indians, or like you?” Toni persisted, with an edge of desperation in her voice. “I mean, do they have ordinary clothing, or like, a mohawk haircut, leather pants, a blanket? Like modern Indians, or like ones in a movie or a book?”

“They can look like the Osage of long ago,” Jennie replied. “I can’t recall ever hearing of one that looked modern. Or they can look like owls, but I don’t think you’d recognize them in an owl-form. Why do you ask?”