Endless Ways to Spend a Dollar

-///-

Delirium was in a very good mood, indeed.

She had received a present.

She sat there on the ground, Barnabas beside her, turning her gift over and over in her hands. It was a pale green piece of paper, with writing and patterns and a picture of a man in a powdered wig on it. It was a dollar bill.

She grinned, and nudged her companion. "Barnabas, look at this," she said.

Barnabas sniffed it, uninterested. "It's a dollar," he said.

"Yes," she said, "I know. But did you see who gave it to me?"

"Some man," Barnabas said. He was hungry and not much in the mood for his mistress's games.

"Not just any man, Barnabas," Delirium said, pouting. "Weren't you paying any attention at all, you silly dog-on-a-log?"

"Not really," Barnabas replied, laying his head on his paws. "We're also sitting on a curb, by the way. Not a log."

"You're absolutely and completely daft, I think," said Delirium, holding the dollar high. The sun shone through the paper and made it greener. "It's Odin's boy. Baldy-something. Weren't you around back then? You had to have been."

"I'm afraid I don't rightly remember," Barnabas said dryly. "What I do remember, though, is what he told you to do with it. 'Buy dog food with it,' he said." He yawned widely. "I'd really like something to eat."

"That is not the point," Delirium said. "Baldy-boy is special. He is a god."

"You don't say," Barnabas said.

"It's a present. And I am going to repay him," she said. "He's a god."

"I know, my lady," said Barnabas. Delirium stood suddenly. "And where are you going?"

"I want to go visit my brother," she replied, smiling. "I need an idea for a present."

"Which one?" said Barnabas, standing as well. She tugged at his rope and clutched it tightly.

"My favorite one," Delirium replied, "at least, most of the time."

-///-

Destruction sat in a desert somewhere in northern Africa, watching the sunset and feeling the world change. The sky was washed in pink and orange and gold, and he felt very much like perhaps trying a watercolor of it the next day. Or, maybe he'd write a poem about it. He hadn't done a poem in a while, he thought.

He suddenly felt a pair of very small arms over his shoulders. The smell of filthy dog mixed with the ozone smell of the desert, wet from nightfall.

"Hello," a familiar voice said. "I need an idea for a present."

With a quick motion of his strong arms, Delirium tumbled into his lap, squealing. Her rainbow hair fell over his legs like frayed silk.

"Haven't seen you in a while, lassie," he said cheerfully, giving her a hug. "Your hair looks lovely."

Delirium curled a carrot-colored strand about her finger, crossing her eyes as she looked at it. "Is it really?" she said. "I had not noticed at all."

Destruction chuckled. "Of course," he said. "So; a present, you say? What's the occasion, dear one?"

"I received a present of my own," said Delirium, the dollar folding crisply in her grasp. "It's a very special present. So, I am going to repay the man who gave it to me. He was very nice."

"May I see it?" asked Destruction. "Your very special present?"

Delirium rolled, all arms and legs, out of Destruction's lap, and thrust the dollar in his face.

"It's just a dollar bill," Barnabas said from behind them. "Balder gave it to her."

"You wicked dog!" Delirium shouted, standing. "You ruined the surprise!" Her voice did not echo, the surrounding dunes and miles of desolation swallowing it up immediately.

"Balder, you say?" said Destruction, bypassing his sister's words. He scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "I think I remember him. Handsome chap, killed by Loki with some mistletoe. Right?"

"Something like that," Barnabas yawned.

"I'm not your friend anymore, Barnabas," said Delirium, crossing her arms crossly and facing her back to him. The dollar bill had folded itself into a crane and was zooming about her head, flapping its tiny paper wings.

Destruction laughed again. "Neither of you have had much to eat, have you?" he said. "I've got nothing on me, and there's nothing to catch for miles. No idea what present I'd give to Balder either, Del."

Delirium spread her arms and fell, back-first, into the sand. She began making a sand-angel; the dollar bill came to rest upon her nose.

"Could you get her to buy some food with that money?" Barnabas asked, as it was quite apparent that she was not listening. "You're right about us being hungry. She's... quite something when she's hungry."

"As well I know," Destruction laughed. "Whole towns used to go mad at a time when her stomach was really empty. Nothing of that sort nowadays, though. Almost a pity." He cupped his hand to his mouth, while Barnabas grimaced at the thought. "Del! Why don't you go and visit Dream? I'm sure he could get you something proper to eat."

Delirium sat up suddenly, and grinned. "Good idea!" she said. "Dream gave me chocolate people, once! I remember that very exactively."

"Then off with you, now!" Destruction said, waving his hands as if shooing her. "And don't you forget Barnabas, lassie!"

No sooner had he spoken that they had vanished, leaving only the desert air and sand behind them.

Destruction sighed. Night had fallen completely, and the sky was a rich, velvety blue. The absence of civilization had given the stars full glory, completely filling the sky like salt spilled on a cloth.

In the stillness of the air, the world continued to change.

-///-

"My Lord Dream?"

Dream sat, pale and vaguely content, as he spun together an orb-like dream, the thoughts and visions that composed it shining like threads in the half-light. The dream itself shone and shimmered like a blueish boiled sweet, or a tiger-eye gem. A very important dream.

"Yes, Lucian?" he said. He did not look up from his work.

"Your youngest sister, the Lady Delirium, has come to visit you, sir," Lucian replied briskly. "And," he added, wrinkling his nose, "she has brought her dog."

Dream smiled, just barely. "It has been a while since her last visit," he said. "Treat her kindly and ask her to wait. I shall be with her shortly."

Lucien bowed with a slight "Sir," and left, to complete his task. Dream finished the dream, the last of the threadlike thoughts laying in place. He observed his handiwork for a moment; it was composed of pure thoughtstuff that a very old spirit of the land had given him to weave into a proper dream with. The dream itself had an important purpose, and Dream handled the finished thing lightly, with his fingertips. Once the time was right, he would send it to whom it was intended; but for now, it was to be stowed in his sleeve. He left his chamber quickly and quietly, and went to receive his sister.

Delirium had gotten herself atop a decorative gargoyle in the hall, and was producing a small chain of mis-matched flowers to place upon its head. Presently, she was fixing a weak strand of Lily-of-the-Valley into place. "Hello, brother," she said lazily.

"And hello to you, my sister," he replied. "Won't you come down and speak with me?"

"Only if Barnabas decides to apologize for ruining the surprise," she said, weaving a tulip into the chain.

"Surprise?" Dream said, his eyebrows rising. "I hope the surprise isn't for me. That would mean I've already learned of it."

"Yeah, then it wouldn't be much of a surprise, huh?" Barnabas said, splayed atop the shoulder of the gargoyle. Dream found this somewhat amusing—the statue was of his sister's creation, not his. "Could you convince her to let me down? It's not exactly comfortable up here."

"Delirium, my sister, you should let Barnabas down," he said, smiling a little. "What if he were to fall?"

The statue disappeared, leaving Delirium flat on her stomach. The flower chain was now on Barnabas' head, much to his discontent. "See?" she said, her voice more sing-songy than usual. "He hasn't fallen. I'm very hungry."

"Indeed," Dream said. "I'm sure I could have you served something."

"Oh, you really mean it?" said Delirium, standing, her mis-matched eyes shining. "Thank you, thank you!" She scampered up to her brother and placed a blue rose in his mop of pale hair, then kissed him on the nose.

"This way, my sister," he said, chuckling a little and rubbing the kiss. Barnabas, still being led on his rope by his mistress, sneezed. "Barnabas, you'll get something to eat as well."

"Thank you," said Barnabas, as Dream took them to a small dining hall, housing only a tiny, round metal table and matching chairs. He curled up at Delirium's feet after she sat down, still wearing the crown of flowers.

"What shall I get you, my lady?" the dream serving them asked. She was a fairly well-to-do dream, that often visited politicians or businessmen. She wore a sharp green suit, like ink on money.

"Um... I'd like a chocolate easter egg. The kind with foil on top of it. And, um, marshmallow in the middle. And limeade. Um, please," she said. The dollar rested on the table, folded into a spindly little horse that cantered about her fingers.

"Of course," said the serving dream. "And you, my Lord?"

"Just a glass of milk," Dream replied. "Would you please ask what my sister's companion would like?"

The dream pursed her lips and did so. Her gold jewelry gleamed coldly in the light. "A steak, please. Raw as you can make it," Barnabas said.

"Of course," the serving dream said again, and left, her heels clicking on the floor.

There was silence for a while. The dollar had folded itself into another bird, but a flightless one this time.

Delirium spoke. "It's been a very, very, very, very long time since I had food with you, Dream," she said. "Last time, it was before I got Barnabas from Destruction. So you wouldn't remember." It was a sentence she had directed at both of them, and she thought herself very clever for it.

"Of course not," Barnabas replied, tiredly.

"I got... little chocolate people, and, and," Delirium continued, "and mango juice."

"Was it a nice meal, my sister?" Dream said lightly, a little sad that no memory of this event existed in his mind. He, of course, knew that his sister had visited him to seek out their missing brother, but there was very little else left in his mind to recall.

"Yes, it was," Delirium said, "but you got mad at me and we left very quickly."

"I see," Dream said. "Now, my sister, why are you visiting me now?"

"Well, Destruction told me to come to you after I went and visited him," she said, folding and unfolding her fingers together as she talked. "He couldn't help me at all, you see. I need an idea for a present." She glared at her feet. "And don't you dare spoil the surprise, Barnabas-who-is-not-my-friend."

"Fine," Barnabas said, and added softly, "Ask her why she needs an idea for a present."

Dream resisted the urge to chuckle very strongly. "Why do you need my help in creating a present?" he said.

"Because," Delirium said, drawing out the word slowly and thoughtfully before she saw the servers arrive, "oh look there's our food! Oh, my egg! I think you got egg-something, last time. And grape-something."

As soon as the egg got placed in front of her, she began neatly picking apart the brightly-colored foil to get to the chocolate beneath. Dream thoughtfully wrapped his fingers around his glass.

"You were talking about the gift you want to give," he said, as she licked marshmallow fluff off her fingers. Barnabas joyfully devoured his steak, getting blood-juices all over the plate.

"Oh, yes," she said, and picked the dollar off the table. It unfolded itself and became flat again. "I got this from Odin's boy. Bald-thingy."

Dream looked at it curiously. "Odin's son?" he said. "Isn't that Balder?"

"Uh-huh," Barnabas said, his voice muffled by chunks of steak. "He's in San Fransisco with Odin, or something."

"How interesting," Dream said, the tiny orb of a dream touching his arm suddenly from within his sleeve. He sipped at his milk. "The gods are at war, I think."

Delirium rested her head on the table, dipping her fingers, one by one, into the limeade. This sort of subject didn't quite interest her. Dream noticed.

"If you want to give a present in return," he said, "I'd go ask Desire. It ought to know what he wants." His face was blank as he finished the milk.

"You really think so?" Delirium said, picking her head up. "I had not thought of that one smidgen."

"I'm done, if you want to go," Barnabas said, licking his chops. Lucian entered.

"My Lord, the Lady Bast has requested an audience with you," he said. Dream nodded.

"Ah, yes, this must be about the dream I allowed her recently... I'll see her shortly," he replied. "I'm afraid I have to leave, my sister."

"Oh, okay," Delirium said. "Thanks for your help. I liked my egg a lot."

"You're welcome," Dream said.

"Come on, Barnabas," she said, standing. She tugged at his rope. "You can be my friend again, if you want."

"Wonderful," Barnabas replied.

They left.

Dream touched the blue rose in his hair, and lightly caressed it with his fingers as he went to go and meet with Bast. She was there to thank him, and to ask of him another favor.

-///-

"My darling sister," Desire cooed in its dominion, "how nice of you to visit-"

Delirium shoved a dollar in its face.

"...me," it finished. "What is that?"

"It's a gift. From Balder," Delirium beamed. "What does Balder want?"

"What do you mean," Desire asked, "'What does Balder want?' As in, what does he want with you? Because, dear little sister, I know nothing of that."

"No, you ninny," Delirium replied, "I mean, what does he want? Like, desire? You know all about that."

Desire smiled a feline smile. "That I do," it said.

"So... tell me. Plea-ase," Delirium said, standing on her tip-toes. "I want to give him a present." Desire burst into laughter. "What's so funny?!"

"You? Give someone a present? Someone like Balder?" it cackled. "Oh, they should fear for their lives, I think."

Delirium glowered, and Barnabas gulped. "It's not funny! It's not, it's not, it's not!" she said, clenching her fists tightly as her hair flared out from behind her like a rainbow aura of rage. "It want to give Balder a present! Help me, or I'll do really horrible things to you. I'm worse than the jabberwocky sometimes." Her face became cold, and Desire felt, for a fleeting moment, intimidated.

"All right, fine," it said, turning its back to its sister so that she could not see any sort of fear in its tawny eyes. "I'll help you find out what he wants."

Delirium cheered, clapping her hands joyfully. "I knew you'd do it, I just knew, I knew I knew," she said. "So! Brother-sister-huggle-pie, what does Balder want?"

Desire, regaining its composure, smiled coyly. "Balder..." it said. "Oh, I do remember him. One of the Norse. Gorgeous one, him. I remember when he died; everyone wanted him back. Except for that snit, Loki." It narrowed its eyes at the memory, then smiled. "They were all mine, then. Even Loki. He would never admit it, though."

"Desi-ire," Delirium whined, "I know that, I know. What does Balder want?"

Desire thought for a moment, reaching out into all the hearts that beat (and a few that didn't) in the realm of the humans, and of what they desired, searching for the son of Odin.

There were familiar identities along the way: Loki, who longed for immortality of the truest sort; Bilquis, who dreamed of millions of men, worshiping her, yearning to be sated; Anubis, waxing poetically as he chewed the hearts of corpses, of the days when he could eat a whole heart and get away with it; Odin, who desired the same as his blood brother...

Finally. Balder, who desired...

Desired frowned for a split second, then returned to smiling.

"I'm afraid there is very little you can give him, my sister," it said. "There is nothing he desires strongly enough to make for any gift of yours."

Delirium pouted, looking almost as if she were about to burst into tears. "You can't be serious," she said. "You can't, you can't!"

"I'm only speaking the truth," Desire said, half amused and half disgusted by its sister's behavior.

"My lady, please calm down," Barnabas said, trying to in vain to comfort her, with a wet nose against her leg. "You're going all to pieces."

Indeed, pieces of Delirium's hair had been given life, and were floating about as butterflies in Desire's chambers. It sighed.

"Not this again," it said, as Delirium continued to disintegrate. It was positively embarrassing. "Sister... there is nothing you personally do to help him, but..." It sighed again. "His wife just died. No doubt he belongs to Despair, little sister. If you went and asked her to release him, perhaps that will make a suitable present for you."

Delirium became just a little more whole, her face blotchy from fussing. "You really, truly mean it?" she said.

"Of course," Desire said. "I can't help you with your present, but maybe my twin can."

Delirium gave a rebellious glare, the rest of her hair coming together. "Thank not so very much, sister-brother-stinky-eye," she said, and left. The filthy dog disappeared along with her.

Glad to finally be alone and away from the revolting smell, Desire sat contentedly, ruminating over a beautiful one-night tryst it had arranged between a djinn and a salesman. It remembered how they had made love for hours, forgetting their destinies and eventually exchanging them.

Truly beautiful.

-///-

"He's a strange one," Despair said, raking her face with her hook as she stared into a mirror at the man Delirium sought. He was boredly brushing his teeth. "He was mine not long ago, but my hold on him is much less than what it used to be."

"So my present won't work?" Delirium said—Barnabas sniffed as Despair's rats skittered about his paws. Despair gave her a dull glare.

"Asking me to release him as a gift... that's very much like my twin, isn't it..." she said lowly. "If you ask me, sister, I don't feel like you need to repay him."

"But I need to," Delirium said urgently, her face echoing her voice. Despair sighed.

"There is nothing you can give him," she said sternly. "Make use of his gift, and leave me."

"You're the absolute worst of the whole potluck!" Delirium shouted, and vanished in a cloud of floating thumbtacks.

Despair, left alone, watched as Balder shaved, and remembered how close he had been to being completely hers. The razor, belonging to the Egyptians, so close to his throat, but she found he had resisted.

Her mind traveled to the days when he had died, and all the world mourned for him. When all the world was hers, save for one god.

Joyously, she ripped her hook across her nostrils, and let the blood pour over her lips.

Those were the days.

-///-

"You should listen to your sister," Barnabas said calmly, as Delirium pouted under a tree somewhere in London. "Just use the dollar like he said. You don't need to repay him."

"No," Delirium said sourly, "no, no, no."

"My lady..." Barnabas sighed, "I can't think of anything you might do to repay him. I doubt your last two brothers and sisters can help much. Right?"

Delirium's shoulders rose. "No, not in the least bit good or helpful or right," she said.

They sat in silence for a good long while. Slowly, clouds rolled into the sky, and it began to rain. Delirium, in her ratty, sand-colored sweater, remained dry. Barnabas didn't.

Suddenly, she rose, tugging Barnabas' chain firmly. "What in the- where are we going?" he said.

"We are going to visit Balder," she said.

-///-

She found him on a tree. He was naked, and strung up on ropes to the trunk; he was hungry and thirsty. It had been a very long time since he had given her the dollar, which remained, folded into a neat square, between her fingers.

"Hello?" she said, peering up at him like a child meeting an enormous stranger. She let go of Barnabas' rope, who shook the water from his fur and took the opportunity to sniff at a rancid, body-shaped thing at the base of the tree. It was wrapped in a sheet.

Balder moaned, and another voice was heard.

"He's been up there for two days, already," a crackling, tiny voice said. "He's holding Odin's vigil."

Barnabas sniffed the body again, and pulled away, disgusted. "This is Odin?"

"Ratatosk, is that you?" Delirium said, searching for him. "Silly squirrelly-curly?"

A squirrel indeed, its tail long and bushy, appeared on Balder's head. "Sure is," he replied. "Killed by Loki. They're up to tricks, I tell you. Don't think he's really dead, myself..."

"Ratatosk, ratatouille, rat-on-task, is that really Balder?" Delirium asked.

Ratatosk nodded. "Balder indeed," he said. "What does the Lady Delirium want with him? He'll be dead in a few days, I think..."

Delirium looked almost sad. "I want to give him a present very badly," she replied, and held up the dollar for the squirrel to see. "Do you know what he'd like?"

"Well, I don't know, really," Ratatosk said thoughtfully. "Maybe to get off this tree, but that's against the rules. He's holding a vigil, you see."

"Dratsticks and fiddlecakes," Delirium said, before her face lit up. "Pretty, witty squirrel, I am going to try something. Will you promise to, um, make sure is okay? He looks thirsty."

"Oh, sure," Ratatosk said. "I don't think it's against the rules to help, I think... You know what? I'll get him some water, m'Lady." He scurried up the tree.

"Wonderful Ratatosk!" Delirium declared, and willed herself off the ground. She was face to face with Balder now; his face weary and parched, hers young and fresh.

"You have given me a present, Mister Balder," she said, "and now, it's my turn to repay you."

Softly, she stroked his head with a cool hand, sending colors and shapes whirling through his mind.

And then she was with him, away from the tree. They were dancing.

It was a dance without a name, with them whirling around, holding hands in a splendid darkness spattered with stars and glittering things. She came only to about his mid-chest; he was a big man. He was a god.

They did not speak, but as she embraced him, she saw what he saw. She saw a grave, and a glittering golden coin tossed towards it; she saw a woman's corpse in the moonlight, smoking a cigarette and moving, but not living; she saw the moon, plucked from the sky like a coin; a woman smelling like the jungle, in a leopard-print skirt, that was at the same time a cat; more corpses, moving yet not alive; a head blasted to pieces on countless television screens; eyes like a toad's; lemon-yellow gloves...

Finally, she let go of his hands, and found herself at the tree again. She knew what to do.

She smiled. "Balder," she told the man on the tree, "wait here. I'm going to get your wife for you. I know she can move and everything. Until then, I'm going to protect you. Okay?" She gave him a brief smile. "Until then, I'll give you a nice picture of her until she gets here."

She stroked his forehead again, and kissed him there. She sent a vision of his wife, of his wedding day, of her kisses and bright colors.

She was on the ground again, Barnabas waiting for her. She sat down next to the body, not minding the stink.

"You make absolutely positively nothing happens while I finish the present," she said sternly.

"Of course, my lady," Barnabas said wearily, but some part of him was almost happy that his mistress was finally doing what she had set out to do.

Delirium closed her eyes; Barnabas lay his head on her knee.

She dissolved into a burst of color, scattering herself everywhere and nowhere. Brilliant butterflies of madness filled the air; some of them alighted on Balder, giving him comforting delusions that made him a tree, strong and safe and tall; others stayed atop Barnabas, assuring that he did his duty. The rest flew away on the breeze, to find the dead wife of Balder.

And they did. She was sitting against a wall near a gas station, wrapped in several sweaters. Her long hair was ragged and her eyes were dull.

One of the butterflies landed on her head and appeared to melt into it, and she received a vision. Her husband was calling, and she stood and began to walk, determined to comfort him. Though she had a ways to go, and had no means to arrive in time, she was ready to find him.

The butterflies, hovering about her as she walked to the lonely road out of the gas station, knew this; they shared one mind, and Delirium reached a decision. She would send one of her own to assure that Balder received his wife.

She found Horus. He was wheeling madly through the sky, and the butterflies, flying much higher than normal butterflies could ever dream of, approached him. Horus ate one of them, but it disappeared within his gullet before he could swallow. Instantly, he became aware of who he was dealing with.

"To what do I owe this visit, Mistress Delirium?" he asked her, speaking, but not speaking. "You do not make a good meal."

"I don't," Delirium replied, her voice sounding in barely audible tones. "I need for you to do something for me."

"Ask, and I shall do it," Horus said.

"Go and protect Balder," Delirium said, "until his wife returns."

"And gladly," Horus replied, flying away. A few of her butterflies followed in pursuit.

And Delirium was pleased.

She floated on the slight pulses of wind in the sky, and at the same time rested in Barnabas' fur while he napped, and at the same time near the wife of Balder, and at the same time with Balder himself.

Horus found him first, and then his wife, and they spoke. Horus flew away, and his wife was sent away, and Balder was alone again. Then, something went wrong.

Her sister had arrived, and was beckoning for Balder to take her hand.

Delirium would have none of that.

"NO!" she shrieked, coming together at the tree and screwing up her face, her knees knocked. "NO, NO, NO!"

Death glanced, disapproving, at her sister. "Del, you're making a fuss," she said. Balder's soul stood, his face blank, beside Odin's body.

"I was protecting him! I was!" Delirium wailed.

"Del, it was his time," Death said gently. "Nothing you can do can bring him back."

"Then bring him back," Delirium said indignantly. "You can do that. I know it. I know it."

Death looked painfully at her sister, and glanced to find that Balder was missing. "...oh," she said. "Well, this is quite a can of worms. Looks like the gods have him."

"Where's he gone?" Delirium said. "You took him already, didn't you?"

"No, I haven't, Del," Death replied evenly. She put her hands on her hips. "He's somewhere I can't get him. Maybe he's in The Dreaming? I don't know."

"Then I'll go get him," Delirium said, and took Barnabas' rope from the ground. "Come on, Barnabas." Barnabas stood, rather tired.

"Del!" Death said, and Delirium stopped where she stood. She stared at her feet, toes curling and uncurling in the wet grass. "You can't just go and get him like that. I know that you gave him a present, but you can't bring him back."

Delirium wandered off to another side of the tree, as if in a daze. Barnabas' rope slid from her fingers and to the ground again. "Stinky-bug," she said softly. "He gave me a present."

"I know, Del," Death said. "You already sent that walking oddity of a wife to him. I think that's enough—I mean, since you went out of your way to do that, even."

Delirium said nothing, and sat down on the grass, her head low. Death folded her arms, but was not cross.

"Come on, Del," she said. "Let's stand up, and go home. There's no use crying over spilled milk, as they say."

Her hair was turning into butterflies, a few of them drifting to the higher reaches of the sky. "It's unfair," she said. "I went to all of you. I went to Destruction, and Dream, and Desire, and Despair, and none of them helped. And then I helped. But now you ruined everything." She was silent.

Death, sensing no real reason to try and talk to her in this state, sat next to Odin's body and below the corpse of Balder. "Well, old coot, hope you enjoy your war," she said to the one in the sheet. "Didn't want to take my hand? That's okay. It's not as fun as you think, not having a body. You'll come to me sooner than you think, I think." She sighed.

A long time passed. Clouds moved across the sky, and Delirium's hair was in a constant state of flux, forming and reforming into butterflies and hair and back to butterflies again.

Delirium hardly noticed when Horus, alerted by one of her butterflies, landed on the tree with a woman in white following him. Death, however, did.

"Well, would you look at that," she exclaimed. Barnabas, who was beginning to feel very hungry again, raised his head as the woman and Horus took Balder's body down from the tree. Neither of them noticed that Death or Barnabas were mere inches from them, watching them in their work.

They laid him on the ground, kneeling around him. A beam of sunlight burst through the clouds, and Death got up off the ground, tapping Delirium on the shoulder. "Look," she said softly. "He's back."

Delirium looked over her shoulder at the company of people there, and Balder—alive! She smiled as the last of her hair became normal, or at least close to it.

She watched as he was dressed, standing next to her sister and Barnabas. Death nudged her in the side. "Still want to give him more, or are you finished?" she asked.

"I think I'm done," Delirium said, and picked up Barnabas' rope. As Balder rode away to war, on the back of a glorious thunderbird, she smiled and rubbed the dollar with her fingers. "Come on, Barnabas. Let's get some dog food with this."

-///-

They stepped on to the grass.

A young girl, no older than fourteen, her hair dyed green and orange and pink, stared at them as they went by. She sat beside a dog, a mongrel, with a piece of string for a collar and a leash. She looked hungrier than the dog did. The dog yapped at them, then wagged its tail.

Shadow gave the girl a dollar bill. She stared at it as if she was not sure what it was. "Buy dog food with it," Shadow suggested. She nodded, and smiled.