Tricked

hotel room, a few doors down from mine.
    As you enter Kate’s, there’s a register and waiting area, and to the right of that is a long white counter with bar stools and a window to the kitchen behind it. The menu is displayed above the kitchen window on one of those old-fashioned marquees with red plastic letters spelling out items and prices. If you keep going past the counter, there’s a rectangular space that serves as the main dining room, full of gunmetal-gray vinyl booths and tables. The walls are painted a sort of burnt orange, kind of like sandstone with lots of iron oxide in it. I camouflaged Oberon, and he squeezed himself underneath one side of a booth while Granuaile and I slid in on the other side.
    › I wish you’d get me one of those seeing-eye-dog aprons so that I can walk around in plain sight and be comfortable, ‹ Oberon said.
    But then I’d have to pretend to be blind, and that would be inconvenient .
    › Inconvenient is squeezing myself under this table. Why can’t I be a tasting-tongue dog or a smelling-nose dog? ‹
    I smiled. Because a lack of taste or smell isn’t considered a handicap to humans .
    › Don’t I know it. Humans can smell hardly anything at all. But, hey, I think they must have pretty good sausage here. I smell chicken-apple! ‹
    Nah, I doubt it. I’m sure they have frozen links or patties, just like everyone else .
    › It’s here! You can’t fake that smell! ‹
    I don’t see it on the menu .
    › So it’s off the menu! But I’m telling you they have chicken-apple sausage! ‹
    A slow, drawling voice tinged with amusement interrupted. » You’re both right. They don’t have chicken-apple sausage, but it’s here. « A slim Navajo man in a black cowboy hat peered around the corner of the main dining area; a brown paper bag liberally stained with grease dangled in his hand.
    › Saint Lassie smiles upon me! It’s Coyote, with a bag of goodies! ‹
    » Hey, Coyote, « I chuckled, and he smiled back. » Come and join us. « Like me, Coyote could hear Oberon’s words, but his comment that we were » both right « had me wondering if he could hear my side of the conversation as well. It was uncomfortable to think that maybe he could read my mind, but perhaps I could chalk up the thought to my paranoia. He could have easily inferred what I was saying based on Oberon’s side of the conversation.
    » Don’t mind if I do, « he said, and then he turned on the charm to greet Granuaile. » Good morning, Miss Druid. Nice to finally meet ya. « Coyote had seen Granuaile before, but at the time she’d been communing with the elemental Sonora, and she’d missed Coyote’s brief visit entirely.
    » Oh. Um, I’m not a Druid yet. Call me Caitlin. « She looked a little starstruck, but that was understandable. Coyote was the first immortal she’d met.
    » Caitlin? « Coyote squinted at me as he sat down gingerly so as not to disturb Oberon. » Thought you said her name was Granuaile. «
    » It is, but we’re using different names now, « I said. In the past I had taken the trouble to mimic his pattern of speech, drawling my words a bit and dropping g ’s off the ends, but I saw no need to do that now. Our deal had already been struck, and any advantage that would have given me was gone. » We’re in hiding, see. It would kind of waste all your effort yesterday to make it seem like I died if you keep calling me Mr. Druid. You should call me Reilly. « Granuaile and I were supposed to be known to the world now as Reilly and Caitlin Collins, brother and sister. We had driver’s licenses and fake documents to prove it, courtesy of my lawyer down in Tempe.
    » Aw, hell with that, Mr. Druid. I ain’t gonna call you anything different. «
    › Preach it, Coyote! He’s always Atticus to me. Say, what’s in that bag you got there? ‹
    » Think your hound might be hungry. Mind if I give him something to chew on? « he asked, pointing at the bag on the table.
    » Sure, go ahead, « I said. » I appreciate the thought, and I know he does too. «
    » Well, I told him I’d bring him some the next time I saw him. «
    › That’s right, you did! Thanks, Coyote! ‹
    Try to snarf quietly .
    › No worries, Atticus. I will snarf surreptitiously. And I should get bacon, because my adverb was two syllables longer than yours, plus a bonus for alliteration. ‹
    I grinned. It’s a deal. You’re the best hound ever .
    › I rock on with my fur on. And it’s Hound 3, Druid 0