Melusine, I’ve remembered something that may help you. ’ Melusine hit lightly at his chest. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. And severely hurt that pig, which was a very good thing.
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