The Green And The Gray

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To my agent, editors, former editors, and publishers in New York With thanks for all the advice, local information, and free lunches

The sun had long since set behind the trees of Riverside Park, on the western edge of Manhattan Island, and the lights of the New Jersey coastline were glittering on the Hudson River. Melantha Green found herself gazing at the lights, and the dark sky beyond them, as she and the two Warriors on either side of her walked along the cool grass of the upper promenade toward the stone steps leading down to the main part of the park. It had been the last sunset she would ever see, she knew, and she felt a deep sadness that it hadn't been more spectacular. But it hadn't been, and it was over.

The sky was dark, and the marginal warmth of the daylight had given way to the chill of a New York October evening. A steady northerly breeze ruffled through the last remaining leaves, and through the fear and anguish pounding in her heart she could imagine that the trees themselves were saying their farewells. Even as they settled into their yearly winter's rest, she, too, was about to settle into the quiet nothingness of death.

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