“There’s an old guy, a loony,” said the thief. “He’s obsessed with anything ‘bout owls, specially them white ones.”

Oriell glanced at Arnica. “Take us to him,” he said.

The thief wiped her nose, and shrugged. “Can’ remember where he is.” After a meaningful pause, she continued, “Maybe, I could recall, if it was worth my while.”

Oriell blinked. Did she know where the man was, or didn’t she?

Seeing his confusion, the girl dropped the affectation and said bluntly, “I want a cut.”

“She’s not—” for sale, Oriell had meant to say, but the owl pecked his shoulder. What if the girl decided not to help them? “Ten percent,” he said, hoping the girl wouldn’t catch his bluff.

She jumped on it. “Thirty.”

“Twenty-five,” he ventured.

The girl squinted at him then held out her hand to shake.

***

She lead him out of the clean part of town. The streets grew narrow and filthy. Storefronts gave way to motels and dilapidated apartment complexes, which in turn gave way to scattered slopes and mounds of rust and accumulated dirt. Even the sounds of traffic faded into a thick, oppressive nothing. Cardboard littered the road, and chunks of asphalt, gouged from the street, lay on sidewalks and in windows. Oriell began to wonder if this girl was leading him to his death.

At last, they came to an old farmhouse. Half the ceiling was caved in, and the rest of the structure was tilted at a forty-five degree angle. A few peeling scraps of greyed paint clung to one windowsill.

The girl lifted the door by its handle and crawled underneath. “Come on, then,” she said.

Inside, the house was dark and smelled of birds. Feathers and droppings carpeted the floor. A susurrus of shifting and cooing came from the shadows above. Arnica clung to Oriell’s shoulder, her head tucked low.

“Where is he?” Oriell asked.

A lump in the corner shifted and sneezed. “Hello?” a deep, dry voice uttered sleepily. “Is someone here?” The dark figure fumbled around, sending books and metal sounding objects toppling to the floor. With a click and a hum, a camp lantern turned on, and fluorescent light dispelled the worst of the shadows. Holding the lamp was a man with a long beard full of feathers. A long stocking cap dangled haphazardly from his head, the star bauble at its tip swinging near his elbow.