Babayaga

pointed questions.
    Will thought quickly, racking his brains about what he could do. He had no leverage, no answers, and he didn’t have any connections to call who could get Brandon and his goons off his back. He realized there was only one person he knew who could manage his way past Brandon. Reluctantly, he gave the cabdriver Oliver’s address.
    Ten minutes later Will was holding up a sagging Zoya and ringing the doorbell.
    “Hullo?” said a sleepy voice.
    “Sorry to disturb you, Oliver. It’s me, Will. I’m afraid I need a little help. I have a—”
    The buzzer cut him off midsentence and he took Zoya inside. Fortunately the elevator was working, so he dragged her in, pulled the metal gate across tight, and pushed the button for the third floor. When they arrived, Oliver was standing at the open door, wearing a blue bathrobe. When he saw Zoya, his face dropped. “My lord, what happened to her?”
    “Long story,” said Will. “I was going to take her to my place but Brandon’s people have it staked out. One of them was watching the door, and I think the other was upstairs, probably tossing the place.”
    “Tossing it? What do you mean exactly?”
    “You know, looking around, searching it. Or waiting for me to come back so they could grill me. Either way, I didn’t want to stick around. Here, help me get her inside.” Together the two of them carried her into the apartment and into the guest room.
    “Of course you’re welcome to spend the night; it’s actually timely that you’re here,” said Oliver, pulling a stack of clean towels and linens out of a closet and throwing them on the bed.
    “Why’s that?” said Will.
    “I’m going to need your assistance with an errand tomorrow. I’d like to say it won’t take long, but honestly I don’t know.”
    “That’s fine”—Will shrugged—“I can’t go to work anyway. Brandon is going to have his goons waiting there too.”
    Oliver nodded. “Precisely. Besides, I believe you’re going to find our errand to be an interesting one. Now, I’d offer you a nightcap but I’m afraid I have to attend to my other guest.”
    “Your other—?”
    Oliver smiled. “Sweet dreams,” he said, heading for the door. Then he stopped and paused. “You know, it’s funny that they only went to your place. After all, they did see you with me. Perhaps they’ll come sniffing round here in the morning.”
    Will was amused that Oliver seemed to be feeling left out of things. “They’re probably afraid of you, you can be quite intimidating. Plus, you’re connected.”
    Oliver nodded. “Probably.”
    “But thanks for helping. I really had no place else to turn.”
    Oliver patted him on the back. “Of course, my friend. We’re a bit like Harlequin and Pierrot, aren’t we?”
    “I guess,” said Will, with no clue who Oliver was referencing and too sleepy to care.
    A few moments later Zoya lay soundly sleeping beside Will in the undersized guest bed as he listened to the sounds from the next room. There were faint whisperings accented occasionally by a woman’s cooing laughter. Will recognized the voice: it was Oliver’s British assistant, Gwen. No wonder she had seemed to dislike Zoya that first morning they met; Oliver was sleeping with her too. When the voices finally died down and the creaking of the bedsprings started, Will switched off his light. That Oliver, he thought, what a cad.
    XI

    Back in the battle, perched on Max’s forehead, the flea’s moment of decision had come fast. Distracted by the brunette’s feint, he had glanced over to see what had been thrown at the little girl when the flash of the silver blade caught his eye. The rat, too, had clearly fallen for the same sleight of hand and was looking completely the wrong way as the cleaver came straight at them. Vidot felt Max tense as he recognized his fatal error. Vidot leapt to freedom, knowing there was no hope for the rat. His own desperate jump had him spinning in the air, giving him one last glimpse of Max. Vidot was in awe that a creature that had once appeared so small, scurrying beneath his feet in the gutters and alleys of the city, could now seem to him such a massive leviathan beast. Oh, how great the small things can be, observed Vidot, arcing high up in the air as the rat’s skull was smashed in behind him with a thunderous splintering crack.
    Vidot landed on the cold floor, blood splattering all around like hard rain. Without pause, he jumped again, aiming now for