The day before Christmas, it snowed again, and the weather reporter on TV promised a blizzard later in the evening. In the morning, Naomi and Willie drove to a used clothing store to buy more wardrobe for Willie. Then Naomi practiced in the studio, and the girls retreated to the kitchen, ostensibly to bake cookies. The sounds of their heated arguing drifted into her studio, like jazzy counterpoints to her soothing practice music.

The sky, heavy with snow, darkened soon after noon, but inside the house, the warm and cozy atmosphere was punctuated by Miranda's laugher and Willie's half-hearted snarls. Naomi felt content despite Willie and the problems she embodied. They would deal with all those problems after Christmas. Somehow.

When the phone rang around five in the afternoon, it was already full dark outside, and the snow roiled tempestuously behind the windows.

Naomi reached for the phone with a smile. Who would be calling her on Christmas Eve? Maybe it was Falcon. She hoped it was Falcon. He had said he needed to go back to Easternlands; some emergency with his family. He was going to leave town this morning, take a train east, but maybe they had solved their emergency without him. She would be happy to see him. She liked the dratted elf too much for her own good. She missed him already.

"Hello?" she said brightly.

"Miss Peterson." Derek Maynard sounded grim, and Naomi tensed involuntary. Before she began imagining all sorts of disasters concerning Willie, Maynard's next question blindsided her. "Is Colin with you?"

"Colin? No. I haven't seen him since the recital. Isn't he home?" She glanced outside, at the white angry churning, and her heart plummeted. Was Colin missing? "What happened?"

A moment of heavy breathing answered her frantic question, before Maynard pulled himself together. "He went to see a friend. He left their house a couple hours ago. It's fifteen-minutes walk, but he hasn't come home. Hasn't called. I thought... I hoped..." He cleared his throat before continuing. "I called all his friends. I called Merci."

He meant the local hospital, and Naomi's mind shied away from that possibility, although perhaps the hospital was better than the alternative.

"I'm sorry. I haven't seen him," she whispered. "What are you going to do? Call the police."

"I have. They said they would look, but nobody knows where to look. I already drove through all the streets between our house and theirs. The streets are mostly empty, everything is closed. Christmas Eve. Nobody has seen him." Maynard's voice hitched. "Sorry to bother you. I'll keep looking."

"No, no. I'm glad you called. I'll help you look. I know where your house is. Where is the friend's house?"

He told her the address. "Thank you," he said hoarsely.

"I'll leave Miranda home, so she could be by the telephone. If you learn anything, call her. I'll do the same. You know my cell phone number?"

They exchanged the cell phones numbers, and Naomi rang off. "Girls!" she called. "Colin is missing. I'm going out to look for him."

"I'm going with you," Willie declared.

"Me too," Miranda piped.

"No, Miranda. You stay by the phone, just in case. If anyone calls with the news, call my cell."

"Okay." Miranda went to the window and looked out. "It's a snowstorm," she said softly. "Where is he, Naomi? He could freeze in a snowstorm."

"I know." Naomi put on a couple sweaters and her parka. "Willy, dress as warmly as you can. Several layers. Put on both your sweaters and a couple pairs of socks."

Willie came clattering down the stairs. She didn't have much in the way of clothing, but it seemed all of it was on her. She also carried a couple of blankets.

"In case we find him, he would need blankets. He'll be cold," she said and whisked herself out to the garage.

"Stay safe," Naomi said to Miranda, kissed the girl's pale cheek right under her sharp elven ear, and ran to catch up with Willie.

"Good thing I have a full tank," she commented as she muscled her small Beetle through the snow-bound streets. The engine whined but obeyed her hands. Willie sat silent beside her.

"Where are we going to look?" she asked after a while. "His dad has already looked everywhere."

Naomi didn't answer. She didn't know the answer. Besides, all her attention was on the road. Even though there was little traffic, her wipers, even at full power, could hardly keep up with the riotous slaps of snow exacerbated by the random gusts of wind. Some gusts were so strong, her little car rocked. She didn't see well through the white soup outside either, so she drove slowly. She hated to think what Colin, alone and unprotected, might be suffering under such a turbulent blizzard.

"What could he think?" Willie persisted. "If we know what he thought, we might guess where to find him. Maybe he wanted to sled down some hills. Maybe some boys egged him on. The blizzard didn't really start until maybe an hour ago or a bit longer. He is what? Eleven? He might've wanted some adventure."

"Willie, you're scaring me," Naomi snapped. "This whole city is nothing but hills and water. And the rivers are full of man-eating fish. No. I can't think that. But maybe..." Her thoughts veered in a different direction.

"What?"

"Colin told me once that he sometimes orders ballet movies from Earth, through a video store. Maybe he went to that store on the way home. Maybe some movie has arrived and was waiting for him. The store is not between his and his friend's house. It's in the other direction. Let's check it out."

"Okay," Willie said. "Do you really think so?"

"I don't know what to think."

It took her almost an hour to navigate to the arcade with the video store Colin had told her about. Every store in the arcade was closed, of course. She couldn't even see the names of the stores. Everything was obscured by the snow It was almost nine on Christmas Eve, and the narrow street was deserted. Only snow drifts piled up along the sidewalk.

"Let's check inside the colonnade," she finally said. She was out of smart ideas anyway.

"I'll check. You keep the car running, or it might not start again," Willie admonished.

"Right," Naomi said.

Willie dove into the angry storm and disappeared in the pitch-dark narrow passage of the arcade. Why didn't they keep lights on down there, Naomi thought in irritation? The miserly store owners were probably trying to save money.

She waited and fretted and imagined Colin turning into a small snowdrift somewhere. What's happened to the boy? What could've kept him from returning home? Or calling? Did someone kidnap him to apply pressure on Maynard. Would those people hurt Colin?

No, don't think such thoughts, she berated herself, but they kept coming willy-nilly. Because if he wasn't kidnapped, then something kept him from reaching home. An injury? In a blizzard, it could be a death sentence. She shivered.

At last, Willie appeared at the other end of the arcade, struggling through the heavy, swirling snow. She was carrying something.

"Colin," Naomi whispered and hurriedly opened the passenger door.

Willie climbed in with her burden. Colin was as white as snow, his lips almost blue. He was shaking so hard, he couldn't talk, but his eyes were open. He whimpered almost inaudibly.

"Don't try to talk, Colin," Naomi told the boy. She turned up the heat in the car as far as it could go and started for home. Willy in the back seat was undoing Colin's icy clothing. "I'll wrap him in blankets," she said. "Poor mite. Naomi, I think he needs the hospital."

"The closest place from here is our house," Naomi replied. "The hospital will take too long. He needs to warm up as quickly as possible."

"I read somewhere," Willie said, "that when people were freezing, the best way to warm them was to get them skin to skin with someone who is already warm. Body heat. I could wrap us together in blankets, under my sweater, and warm him by my skin. Should I?"

"Yes, do," Naomi said firmly. "Thank you. And rub his hands and feet. I'm afraid he has them frostbitten already. He has been outside for hours. Why was he there, do you know? Is he injured?"

"Something is wrong with his ankle. It's swollen and kind-a looking the wrong way. Sprain, maybe," Willie said. Then she squealed loudly. "Gods, he is cold!"

"Or dislocation," Naomi muttered.

By the time they reached home, Colin still couldn't talk, although his shaking seemed to be lessening. Willie carried him inside, stripped everything but his briefs from him, and deposited his thin body in her bath tube. "Hot water, right?"

"Yes. Could you get in with him. Keep rubbing him. Skin to skin is a wonderful idea. I'll look at his ankle as soon as I call his dad."

"Can you fix his ankle?" Willie started filling the bath, and Colin wriggled like a fish to get as much of himself as he could under the stream of hot water.

"If it is not broken, yes," Naomi said.

"Thank you," Maynard whispered, when Naomi telephoned him with her news. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

By the time he did get to their house, Colin was finally warm and asleep in Naomi's bed, with several blankets piled on top of him. Before he dozed off, Naomi heated up milk, added some brandy, and made him drink the concoction.

He had some trouble talking, his throat obviously raw, but he told her that her guess about the movie was essentially correct. "It was Baryshnikov," he rasped, then coughed and sipped some more of the fiery, brandy-laced milk. His thin fingers were red and wrinkled from the long hot bath, but he held his cup in a dead grip.

"I've wanted to see him for so long. And then I slipped and fell and couldn't walk. And everybody in the arcade was already gone. They all left through the back doors. I thought someone would pass the street, and I could ask for help, but nobody did. And then the wind got so bad."

"What about your phone? Why didn't you call your dad?"

"I forgot to charge it yesterday," he said. "It died. Did Willie find my CD with Baryshnikov?"

"Oh, Colin." Naomi shook her head. "No, Willie didn't find your movie. She didn't look for it. It would probably still be there when the store reopens after Christmas. Sleep, Colin."

"Uh-hu," he said and closed his eyes.