This story is set in Terri Windling's Borderlands shared-world.

                                Knock The Three
                               Thomas Harlan, 1992

The singers voice was pure gold, piercing the thick, throbbing air of the Snail.
Karli was dancing hard, his body shocking to the heavy riff laid down by the
guitar-man on stage. His long blonde hair whipped back and forth to the
hammering beat, and he spun and whirled faster and faster. Thray smashed into
him from the side and they sprang apart, crashing into the surging crowd.
Adrenaline hissed in Karli's blood and he spun around and around again. With
each twirl he and Thray struck apart, sparks flashing from their gear, studs and
spikes ringing.

The guitar-man's axe shrieked down into a low, whistling, flourish and faded
away, leaving the voice of the singer was hanging in silence, clear and pure. The
crowd cheered and stamped their feet, swaying back and forth to the rippling
pitter-pat beat that the drummer laid down on the edge of his set. Karli and Thray
pushed off the floor through the laughing crowd, drenched with sweat, ears
ringing. Smalls and Lax were already at the table, grinning ear to ear. Karli fived
Smalls and got the put-back from Lax behind his back. They crowded into the
alcove around the table. Karli felt light, his whole body was echoing the last
chords off of the guitar-man.

"Kickin' song," yelled Lax in Karli's ear.

Karli nodded and waved down a waitress dressed in velvet and lace. She off
loaded some beers and slipped away into the crowd. The band had come back
up and a sitar was beginning its droning buzz to backup the singer. Karli pushed
himself up on his seat and caught sight of her across the dancing crowd, over the
bobbing heads and upraised hands. She was pale and gossamer, swaying from
side to side as her honey-voice worked the floor mike at the edge of the stage.
Her hair fell around her in waves, burnished silver and gold. Her hands cut the air
as she ran up the scale into the end of the first chorus. Lax and Thray, perched on
the back of the alcove bench-seat whooped and whistled.

Karli laid back against the dark smooth oak paneling. Sweet sound filled the air
around him, the beer went down cold and fresh. His compadres were here. Life
was good, he thought, and made a hand sign of blessing to the powers. Smalls
reached over and ruffled Karli's hair. He nodded to the floor, shouting something.
Karli heard only the wavering voice of the singer, but he turned to look. Two
eastside girls in slick forest green leather and spidernet were waving at them from
the edge of the dance floor. Karli laughed, feeling joy bubble up from inside him
like a rushing wave. He and Smalls broke for the floor, catching the girls and
spinning them around as they faded into the dancing press of people.



The cold air bit at Karli as he stumbled down the cracked concrete steps of the
Snail. Lax and Smalls grabbed at him and pulled him upright. Everything was very
clear, like crystal. The moon rode high in the sky, yellow and huge over the
soaring towers and crenellations of the city. Looking up from the spilling dusky
light at the door of the Snail, Karli could see the lights of the buildings, yellow, red
and bronze against the night sky. He grabbed Thray and Lax and Smalls and