It was like the cry of seagulls, only — musical. What was it? He scanned the horizon but saw only blue, sky against ocean. There weren’t any clues... The tones came again, a bit louder this time. He started rowing toward the flute-like sound. The liquid silver noise called to him. Slowly it grew louder. The more he heard it, the more he wanted to hear it. It was irresistible. ‘I must find you, I must find you,’ he thought. He rowed on. After a few minutes there was a flash at the place where the. I’d recommend A Touch of Ink over in Old Vail Village. Ask for Gary. He owns the place. He’s a real artiste so you can trust him. Runs a clean shop. But you’ll pay for it. He’s expensive.”“Thanks.”“What design are you going to get?” Fred asked Rachael.“A dragon spitting fire,” she told him.“No, she’s not,” I informed Fred.“Then I’ll get an American Eagle with a snake in its claw.”“I don’t think so,” I replied.With a grin, she countered, “How about an Arizona Wren? It’s the state bird.”Fred. More

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