~4.36~

“What brings you to the mall?” Mama asked John.

“Ivan, in point of fact,” John said.

“Ivan?” the ginger-haired woman said, her eyes darting around the strip. John felt he’d made a misstep in mentioning the security head’s name. Of course… he didn’t go on with the witches, and vice versa. “What’s he doing here?”

“Not a thing, that I’m aware of,” John said. “I’m here on his behalf… well, I should say I am abroad in the world on his behalf.” He was babbling… his clever, nimble tongue flopping around in his mouth like a sack of wet flour while Ginger’s eyes bored into him. “My feet and the metro bus brought me here. Where they’ll take me next, I can’t say, but I can’t wait to find out.”

“What’s Ivan up to?” Mama asked.

“Grasping at straws, probably,” Ginger said. “I don’t think the person who attacked tribe would be careless enough to leave any traces a man like him could find. He’s chasing shadows, tilting at windmills…”

“Following breadcrumbs?” John suggested.

“I’m sure he’ll do less damage if he feels like he’s doing something,” Mama said. “Caged tigers got to pace, you know. I’m trying to keep everybody busy, honestly… give them goals, things to work towards instead of listening to rumors and dwelling on whatever they remember of last night. One thing we’re doing is integrating Ginger’s older charges into our houses… with our numbers down, we’ve got the room, and we need the eyes and hands.”

“The mall’s been getting crowded, anyway,” Ginger said. “It’s really for the best for everyone.”

“Except the souls we lost, of course,” Mama said.

“Of course,” Ginger said, smiling. “I didn’t mean… it’s making the best of a bad situation.”

“Of course,” John agreed, thinking meet it is I set it down, that one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. “At least, I am sure it may be so in Denmark.”

“What?” Ginger asked.

“What?” John said. “Oh, er… nothing.”