up the rodent and pointing it to the east.
Mallory turned to Mürgenstürm. “Let's go."
"We might need her,” protested the elf.
"If we stick around long enough to watch her torture her dinner, we may never catch up with the damned unicorn,” said Mallory, setting off across the soggy grass in the direction Felina had indicated. Mürgenstürm opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and fell into step behind him.
They walked for almost 300 yards, and finally came to the cinder bridle path.
"Which way now, I wonder?” mused Mallory, looking up and down the path.
Mürgenstürm shrugged. “Shall I go back and ask?"
Mallory shook his head. “It'll take too long.” He looked both ways again, then set off to the north.
"What made you decide on this direction, John Justin?” asked the elf after they had walked in silence for a couple of minutes.
"It's less crowded,” answered Mallory. “If someone has got a unicorn that doesn't belong to him, it stands to reason that he won't want to take it where everyone can see him. Now, in my Manhattan you've got the Plaza and the Park Lane and all those stores at the south end of the park."
"It's the same in this Manhattan,” said Mürgenstürm. He paused. “So you're saying that if it turned south, it probably wasn't Larkspur?"
"Right,” said Mallory. “I hope."
A cold wind whipped across the park, and suddenly the rain changed to light snow. Within five minutes it was snowing heavily, and Mallory came to a stop.
"I have a feeling we're going the wrong way,” he announced.
"Oh? Why?"
"Because the Grundy hasn't tried to warn me off yet."
"Maybe he knows you're expecting him to do so, in which case the proper strategy from his point of view is to do nothing.” Mürgenstürm's brow furrowed in thought. “Unless, of course, he anticipates that you might be expecting just such a tactic, in which case—"
"Enough,” interrupted Mallory.
"I was just trying to be helpful,” said Mürgenstürm petulantly.
"Why don't you try being quiet instead?” suggested Mallory.
A harpy that had been perched in a nearby tree suddenly took wing and circled over them.
"Go back, John Justin Mallory!"
Mallory turned to Mürgenstürm. “Thanks a lot, you little green bastard!"
"What did I do?"
"Two minutes ago I would have known what the hell that meant!"
"Don't listen to her!" cried a large owl that sat shivering on a barren, leafless tree. "Press on, Mallory! Press on!"
"Wonderful,” muttered Mallory.
"What are you going to do, John Justin?” asked Mürgenstürm.
"Keep walking."
"What factor led to this decision?” queried the elf.
"It's too damned cold to stand here wondering what to do next,” replied Mallory, finally remembering to tighten his belt to the second notch and feeling somewhat more comfortable as his robe began generating heat.
They walked another fifty yards, and then the little elf tugged at Mallory's sleeve.
"What now?” asked the detective.
"Do you think you could manage to do without me for, oh, about fifteen minutes?” asked Mürgenstürm.
"Why?"
"Do you see that apartment building opposite us?” said the elf, pointing to a decaying structure with spires and a turret that Mallory was sure couldn't co-exist in his Manhattan.
"It looks like mad scientists build monsters in the basement,” remarked the detective.
"I don't know what goes on in the basement, though I suppose anything's possible,” answered Mürgenstürm.
"Get to the point."
"I have an ongoing ... ah ... friendship with the housekeeper, if you know what I mean."
"You're facing death in seven hours if you don't find the unicorn, and you want to take time off from the chase to get laid?” demanded Mallory unbelievingly.
Mürgenstürm sighed. “I see your point, John Justin,” he said. “It was thoughtless and selfish of me to suggest deserting you.” Suddenly his homely little face brightened. “I could see if she's got a friend."
"Forget
Mallory turned to Mürgenstürm. “Let's go."
"We might need her,” protested the elf.
"If we stick around long enough to watch her torture her dinner, we may never catch up with the damned unicorn,” said Mallory, setting off across the soggy grass in the direction Felina had indicated. Mürgenstürm opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and fell into step behind him.
They walked for almost 300 yards, and finally came to the cinder bridle path.
"Which way now, I wonder?” mused Mallory, looking up and down the path.
Mürgenstürm shrugged. “Shall I go back and ask?"
Mallory shook his head. “It'll take too long.” He looked both ways again, then set off to the north.
"What made you decide on this direction, John Justin?” asked the elf after they had walked in silence for a couple of minutes.
"It's less crowded,” answered Mallory. “If someone has got a unicorn that doesn't belong to him, it stands to reason that he won't want to take it where everyone can see him. Now, in my Manhattan you've got the Plaza and the Park Lane and all those stores at the south end of the park."
"It's the same in this Manhattan,” said Mürgenstürm. He paused. “So you're saying that if it turned south, it probably wasn't Larkspur?"
"Right,” said Mallory. “I hope."
A cold wind whipped across the park, and suddenly the rain changed to light snow. Within five minutes it was snowing heavily, and Mallory came to a stop.
"I have a feeling we're going the wrong way,” he announced.
"Oh? Why?"
"Because the Grundy hasn't tried to warn me off yet."
"Maybe he knows you're expecting him to do so, in which case the proper strategy from his point of view is to do nothing.” Mürgenstürm's brow furrowed in thought. “Unless, of course, he anticipates that you might be expecting just such a tactic, in which case—"
"Enough,” interrupted Mallory.
"I was just trying to be helpful,” said Mürgenstürm petulantly.
"Why don't you try being quiet instead?” suggested Mallory.
A harpy that had been perched in a nearby tree suddenly took wing and circled over them.
"Go back, John Justin Mallory!"
Mallory turned to Mürgenstürm. “Thanks a lot, you little green bastard!"
"What did I do?"
"Two minutes ago I would have known what the hell that meant!"
"Don't listen to her!" cried a large owl that sat shivering on a barren, leafless tree. "Press on, Mallory! Press on!"
"Wonderful,” muttered Mallory.
"What are you going to do, John Justin?” asked Mürgenstürm.
"Keep walking."
"What factor led to this decision?” queried the elf.
"It's too damned cold to stand here wondering what to do next,” replied Mallory, finally remembering to tighten his belt to the second notch and feeling somewhat more comfortable as his robe began generating heat.
They walked another fifty yards, and then the little elf tugged at Mallory's sleeve.
"What now?” asked the detective.
"Do you think you could manage to do without me for, oh, about fifteen minutes?” asked Mürgenstürm.
"Why?"
"Do you see that apartment building opposite us?” said the elf, pointing to a decaying structure with spires and a turret that Mallory was sure couldn't co-exist in his Manhattan.
"It looks like mad scientists build monsters in the basement,” remarked the detective.
"I don't know what goes on in the basement, though I suppose anything's possible,” answered Mürgenstürm.
"Get to the point."
"I have an ongoing ... ah ... friendship with the housekeeper, if you know what I mean."
"You're facing death in seven hours if you don't find the unicorn, and you want to take time off from the chase to get laid?” demanded Mallory unbelievingly.
Mürgenstürm sighed. “I see your point, John Justin,” he said. “It was thoughtless and selfish of me to suggest deserting you.” Suddenly his homely little face brightened. “I could see if she's got a friend."
"Forget
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