The full mooed a halo behind Igels head and evoked the memory of saints and is in the church I could barely remember. By his side stood Luchóg. Both were dressed for travel in jackets and shoes to ward off the frost.
"Aniday, get up a dressed. Youre ing with us this m."
"M?" I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "Its the middle of the night."
"The sunll be up in no time. Youd best be quick," Luchóg advised.
We stole along the hidden trails through the forest, leaping like rabbits, scrambling through brambles, c ground with great speed and no pause. Clouds passed beh the moon, first hiding and then revealing the landscape. The trail led across empty roads, our feet sounding on the pavement. We darted through open spaces, through a field of stalks that rustled and hummed as we rolled between rows, past a barn big against the dark sky and a farmhouse yellow in the skittish moonlight. Iall, a cow lowed at our fleeting presence. A dog barked once. Past the farm, another patch of trees, another road, and then we were crossing a stream from the dizzyi of a bridge. On the far side, Igel led us into a ditch that paralleled the road, and we crouched low in its cover. The sky began to lighten to a deep violet. An engine coughed and soon a milk truck passed by on the road above.
"We started too late," Igel said. "Hell have to be more careful now. Aniday, this m we will test how far youve e to being one of us."
Looking down the road, I spied the milk truck stopping at a dreary bungalow oskirts of tow door stood a small general store with a single gasoline pump out front. The milkman, all in white, desded from his perd carried his basket to the side door, returning briskly with two glass empties that ked against the wire. Caught up in the se, I nearly fot to follow my rades as they slithered ahead. I reached them in a culvert not ten yards from the gas station, and they were whispering and pointing in dire spiracy. The object of desire began to take shape ihering light. Atop the pump, a coffee mug shone like a white bea.
"Go get that cup," Igel ordered. "Dont be seen."
The rising sun pushed away the deeper hues of the night, and aation on my part risked discovery. It was a simple task to sprint across the grass and pavement, grab the cup, and dash back to our hiding place. Fear held me back.
"Take off your shoes," Igel advised. "Theyll never hear you."
I slipped off my brogans and ran to the pump, its red-winged horse vaulting toward the heavens, and I grasped the mug and turo go, when an ued noise froze me to the spot. Glass on glass. I imagihe station owner reag into the milk box, deteg a peculiar motion at the gas pump, and h to stop me. But no such thing happened. A s door whined and closed with a bang. I swallowed and trotted bay rades, holding up the mug in triumph.
"You done well, little treasure."
"While you dallied in the open"—Igel stared down—"I went ahead for the milk."
The bottle was already open. Without shaking down the half-inch of cream, Igel poured me some first, and we washed down the half-gallon like three drunkards, toasting the dawn. ilk settled into my stomach, swelling my belly, causio swoon and drowse away the m with my fellow thieves in a ditch.
At midday, we woke from our slumber and moved closer to town in measured steps, hiding among the shadows, halting at the hint of any people. Stopping only at places that appeared to be empty, homes wit