PROLOGUE STOOPED AND SHUFFLING the man slipped soundlessly through the shadows of night His hair was long and shaggy his clothes ill fitting and unremarkable except for the many pockets of various sizes that covered his jacket and trousers Wherever he walked the streetlights dimmed It seemed to make the man stand a little taller and his stride lengthen He gazed hungrily into well lit windows of houses and his pale skin began to itch It was only mid-March but spring was coming coming The daylight lasted longer the air carried the first faint scents of new life Soon very soon the change would come He stood hidden in shadow outside the windows of a small house on Willow Street Silhouettes moved back and forth behind the curtains The windows blazed but this was not the house he was looking for When his scalp began to tingle he raked his fingers through his hair A single leaf had sprouted from the back of his head The change was beginning A tabby cat rustled through the laurel bushes Pausing to stare warily it inched closer to the man then rubbed against his ankles ankles As he bent to scratch its ears he thought of the lengthening days ahead Every year he waited for the days to grow longer for the short days of winter to change to summer This spring would be different He could feel it He could even hear it in the voices of the trees
He hurried toward the outskirts of town past the road to the forest’s forest’s edge where the houses became more scattered hidden behind hedges and large trees He was in search of a particular house where two particular children lived He had been waiting for this spring for many years The boy should be almost twelve his sister two years older Their house was half hidden by a large clump of birch trees white and shining in the moonlight A wide porch wrapped around two sides The green front door had been left ajar It was time to begin The rough bark of the sycamore dug into the girl’s back She was not used to sitting in trees and she had been in this tree for what most people would consider a very long time Above her the stars burned in the night sky and the distant moon looked as if it were tangled in the uppermost branches of the tree Occasionally she swung her legs or ran a comb through her long pale hair Her job was to wait and watch and as she waited she sang The song had no melody but it spun out into the night like a silvery ribbon As she watched the front door opened tentatively a slender slice of light and a boy’s face appeared and then disappeared Surprisingly the door stayed open She continued to sing as minutes passed Finally there was movement movement in the darkness and her back relaxed against the tree A man came shambling across the wide lawn moving purposefully toward the open door
The girl’s song carried itself on the wind through the night and spread out in the four directions of the compass In the north it disturbed the sleep of a pack of white hounds they stirred restlessly whimpered and barked Their master looked at the sky and wondered why they should travel so soon Nevertheless the hunt would ride when and where it was summoned He saddled his well-muscled horse black as the night sky Then he hooked a polished hunting horn to his belt The hounds would be glad of some exercise and he wouldn’t mind some himself In the east the song reached into the sleep of the one-eyed man and gave him horrible dreams A striped orange cat held in a small trap by his bedside hissed longing for freedom Only hours before it had been hunting for a morsel of food or water In a cage next to the cat a gray rat hunched miserably rubbing its paws over its pointed face The man snorted loudly and called out in his sleep but because he lived alone nobody came In the next room other animals growled or mewled piteously Those without voices merely shifted seeking comfort in cages that gleamed like jewels
