Nancy stared at the table, at the many open dishes.

"Well, I'm not hungry any longer," Nancy announced.

Chay, however, felt differently. He had returned to his seat and held a roast in one hand and a turkey leg in the other. Juices ran down his cheeks as he savaged the pieces of meat.

Tentatively, a few of the others sat down at the table also, though with less enthusiasm.

"The roast does smell pretty good," Dave commented.

A trumpet sounded, and all eyes turned toward the front window.

Vultures descended. Their black wings striking the air like a percussive instrument as a guitar began to play. The cackling laughter of old women joined them.

Steve stepped quickly to the door and clicked the lock shut.

"Can vultures play mariachi music?" K. J. asked.

"No," Holly said. "But there's a certain necromancer I know who does. And he--well he gets along with crows."

"I sense another story," the woman with the headdress of coins said. "Please, tell it to us."

The sky continued to darken, and the volume of cawing and flapping wings increased.

Holly licked her lips. "I'm not sure how this fits with everything we've learned so far, but here's my tale..."