that happens to him as a test of his courage and faith; he will absolutely abandon himself to the belief that the Nal-toon will protect him from harm as long as he acts like a warrior."
"That would explain his dash across Fifth Avenue. It wasn't just panic."
"No. He believed he was protected."
"Hey, he may be on to something," Veil said, smiling. "After all, he did make it across the street—and they haven't found him yet. I may get myself a Nal-toon."
"Toby coming to New York City could be very bad news, Veil," Reyna said seriously. "You've seen what's happened already. He's dangerous."
"I know."
"All the time I was searching, I kept calling out to him. I wanted him to know he was in danger and that he could come to me. If he heard, he didn't respond." Reyna paused and sighed. "He probably doesn't trust me. He may not even think I'm real."
"Not real?"
"Veil, in New York, Toby might as well be a visitor from another galaxy; everything here is totally alien to him. Also, depending upon how much shilluk he brought with him, he'll view everything as part of some netherworld constructed by the Nal-toon to challenge him. He'll perceive the people here as a tribe of ghost-demons whom he can't trust but who can hurt him if he's not brave and true to his faith."
"Then we'd better find him before the police or Mafia do. I want to help, Reyna."
"I know. Thank you."
"If you can get me to him, I may be able to stop Toby from hurting himself or others."
"Yes."
"What do you suggest we do?"
"For now, wait."
Again, Reyna had averted her gaze, and Veil had the definite impression that she was hiding something— holding something back. "Would you like more coffee? Something to eat?"
Reyna shook her head, then looked at him and offered what seemed to Veil a slightly forced smile. "No, thank you. I guess what I'd really like is a little more information about you. You already know everything important there is to know about me."
"I strongly doubt that."
"It's true. But I know next to nothing about you—except that you're an artist, fight like nobody I've ever seen, and seem to be my guardian angel. Even your name is mysterious. Is Veil a family name?"
"More like a family prayer."
Reyna smiled warmly and cocked her head. "Please tell me about it."
"I was born with a very high fever, and a caul, and the doctors gave me about two hours to live. My parents had a metaphysical streak in them, so they immediately named me Veil. Who knows? Maybe my name saved my life."
Reyna laughed softly. "Then you do have your Nal-toon: your name."
"Why not?"
"You said you weren't religious."
"I'm not. I believe in gravity and mathematics. But I also, most definitely, believe in mystery. To me there's more mystery in one ordinary day in the life of any ordinary human being than there is in all of the religious fables ever told or written."
"Well, obviously I think differently. To me Our Lord Jesus is mankind's Savior and the Son of God." Suddenly Reyna put her hand over her mouth in a strikingly childlike gesture and giggled. "But I won't try to convert you."
"I'm relieved."
"I like you, Veil."
"Thank you. And I like you."
"Wow," Reyna said with a grin as she studied the solidly built man with the broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms sitting across from her. As solid as he was, she had never seen anyone as quick and lithe. "You certainly survived, all right."
Veil considered his reply carefully. Secretive by nature, the bizarre residue of his fever was something he almost never discussed, an affliction that was known only to a very few friends, like Victor Raskolnikov and a certain dwarf. And Sharon. Now, however, he decided that he would share this part of himself with Reyna Alexander, in the hope that she might come to appreciate the gift and share her own secrets—secrets he was certain she held and which he suspected could involve the Nal-toon, Toby, and his own new and powerful enemy, Carl Nagle.
"The fever left me with
"That would explain his dash across Fifth Avenue. It wasn't just panic."
"No. He believed he was protected."
"Hey, he may be on to something," Veil said, smiling. "After all, he did make it across the street—and they haven't found him yet. I may get myself a Nal-toon."
"Toby coming to New York City could be very bad news, Veil," Reyna said seriously. "You've seen what's happened already. He's dangerous."
"I know."
"All the time I was searching, I kept calling out to him. I wanted him to know he was in danger and that he could come to me. If he heard, he didn't respond." Reyna paused and sighed. "He probably doesn't trust me. He may not even think I'm real."
"Not real?"
"Veil, in New York, Toby might as well be a visitor from another galaxy; everything here is totally alien to him. Also, depending upon how much shilluk he brought with him, he'll view everything as part of some netherworld constructed by the Nal-toon to challenge him. He'll perceive the people here as a tribe of ghost-demons whom he can't trust but who can hurt him if he's not brave and true to his faith."
"Then we'd better find him before the police or Mafia do. I want to help, Reyna."
"I know. Thank you."
"If you can get me to him, I may be able to stop Toby from hurting himself or others."
"Yes."
"What do you suggest we do?"
"For now, wait."
Again, Reyna had averted her gaze, and Veil had the definite impression that she was hiding something— holding something back. "Would you like more coffee? Something to eat?"
Reyna shook her head, then looked at him and offered what seemed to Veil a slightly forced smile. "No, thank you. I guess what I'd really like is a little more information about you. You already know everything important there is to know about me."
"I strongly doubt that."
"It's true. But I know next to nothing about you—except that you're an artist, fight like nobody I've ever seen, and seem to be my guardian angel. Even your name is mysterious. Is Veil a family name?"
"More like a family prayer."
Reyna smiled warmly and cocked her head. "Please tell me about it."
"I was born with a very high fever, and a caul, and the doctors gave me about two hours to live. My parents had a metaphysical streak in them, so they immediately named me Veil. Who knows? Maybe my name saved my life."
Reyna laughed softly. "Then you do have your Nal-toon: your name."
"Why not?"
"You said you weren't religious."
"I'm not. I believe in gravity and mathematics. But I also, most definitely, believe in mystery. To me there's more mystery in one ordinary day in the life of any ordinary human being than there is in all of the religious fables ever told or written."
"Well, obviously I think differently. To me Our Lord Jesus is mankind's Savior and the Son of God." Suddenly Reyna put her hand over her mouth in a strikingly childlike gesture and giggled. "But I won't try to convert you."
"I'm relieved."
"I like you, Veil."
"Thank you. And I like you."
"Wow," Reyna said with a grin as she studied the solidly built man with the broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms sitting across from her. As solid as he was, she had never seen anyone as quick and lithe. "You certainly survived, all right."
Veil considered his reply carefully. Secretive by nature, the bizarre residue of his fever was something he almost never discussed, an affliction that was known only to a very few friends, like Victor Raskolnikov and a certain dwarf. And Sharon. Now, however, he decided that he would share this part of himself with Reyna Alexander, in the hope that she might come to appreciate the gift and share her own secrets—secrets he was certain she held and which he suspected could involve the Nal-toon, Toby, and his own new and powerful enemy, Carl Nagle.
"The fever left me with
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