Bone Gap by Laura Ruby Page B

across a flat gray plain that Finn saw too late, too late, was the edge of a mountain, and then the mare was leaping into the air,and they were falling over the cliff, until they felt the wind catch them, carry them in its soft, dark hand as if the horse and two riders were nothing but a feather that wended its way down the mountainside.
    And since none of this could be real, Finn closed his eyes and held on to Petey and wondered if she could feel his heart beating against her back, if she noticed his arms wrapped around her waist, if the moon had etched itself upon her otherworldly eyes, if the moon could ever be full enough to fill them.
    Hours later, days or weeks or months later, the mare’s hooves again found the ground, and they were no longer falling off a mountain or flying through the forest, they were trotting back across the golden field, through the now pitch-black cemetery, past the Corderos’ dozing stone house, and into the beeyard, the only sounds the sounds of Finn’s breathing, Petey’s breathing, the mare breathing.
    When they reached Petey’s window, Finn released the reins and slid from the horse’s back, knees loose and watery, hands trembling. Petey put her own hands on Finn’s shoulders as he helped her down. They stood there in the hushed dark of the yard, struggling for words.
    Finally, Petey said, “I’m sorry we didn’t find your cat.”
    Finn decided not to press his luck, not to do anything but say Thank you , say Good night , say Maybe tomorrow , say Did you see the fire? say Did that just happen? but when her fingertips traced down his arms to his wrists, when she turned her face up to his,lips parted, breath sweet, there didn’t seem to be anything to say, anything to do, but kiss her.
    And so he did.
    Somehow, Finn got home, stabled and watered the mare, patted the goat, stumbled into the house. Instead of sitting vigil at the kitchen table, as he had done sixty-whatever gray and troubled nights, he dropped into his bed and careened into sleep, his feet jerking as if he were still riding with Petey through a forest that existed only in dreams. But only a few hours later, thin cries woke him.
    Finn threw back the sheets, disoriented. He lurched toward the open window, not sure whose name to call out.
    Another sharp cry.
    Finn glanced around. Then he dropped to his knees and peeked under the bed.
    Calamity.
    And six tiny kittens, not much bigger than the mice Calamity was such a calamity at catching.
    â€œIt’s all right,” he whispered to the squeaking, squirming pile of them, nosing their mother’s belly. “I’ll look after her, she’ll look after you. You’ll see.”
    He crawled back into bed. You’ll see, you’ll see, you’ll see.

Roza
JUST LIKE THE REST OF US
    THE BEAST THAT HAD PREVENTED ROZA FROM ESCAPING the yard of that horrible suburban house was the largest, ugliest, most miserable dog that Roza had ever seen. His teeth were long and yellow, his tail a spiked lash, his eyes the color of tombs. He growled every time she moved, erupted into furious snarls if she dared walk from one end of the room to the other, barked till he was hoarse if she lingered too long by the doors or windows.
    The castle maids and guards kept their distance from Roza and her ferocious new companion. But that night, when the cook asked if she would like some eel pie for dinner, Roza said, “Yes. Thank you very much.”
    The cook was so delighted to have someone to cook for, she prepared two eel pies. Roza took the dog and the pies to her chambers in the tower, broke the pies into pieces, and offered them to the dog. The dog turned his bloodshot eyes up at her, confused by the offer, by the kindness.
    â€œIt’s okay,” she said.
    He took one bite, gulped, looked up at her again.
    â€œGo on. It’s all for you.”
    He ate one pie, then the other, and belched contentedly. She sat in a chair by the