A Night in the Lonesome October

October 23

Up in the morning, out on the job. I hassled the Things, then checked around outside. A black feather lay near our front door. Could be one of Nightwind's. Could be openers on a nasty spell. Could just be a stray feather. I carried it across the road to the field and pissed on it.

Graymalk wasn't about, so I walked over to Larry's place. He let me in and I told him everything that had happened since I'd last seen him.

«We ought to check that hillside,» he said. «Could be there'd been a chapel there in the old days.»

«True. Want to walk over now?»

«Let's.»

I studied his plants while he went for a jacket. There were certainly some exotic ones. I hadn't told him yet about Linda Enderby, perhaps because he'd revealed in passing that all they'd spoken of was botany. Perhaps the Great Detective really was interested in plants.

He returned with his jacket and we went out. It was somewhat blustery when we reached the open fields. At one point we came across a trail of huge misshapen footprints leading off in the direction of the Good Doctor's farmhouse of the perpetual storm. I sniffed at them: Death.

«The big man's been out again,» I remarked.

«I haven't been over that way to say hello,» Larry said. «I'm beginning to wonder now whether he isn't a rather famous man I've already met, seeking to further his work.»

He did not elaborate, as we came upon a crossbow bolt about then, stuck in the bole of a tree.

«What about Vicar Roberts?» I said.

«Ambitious man. I wouldn't be surprised if his aim is to be the only one left standing at the end, sole beneficiary of the opening.»

«What about Lynette? This doesn't require a human sacrifice, you know. It just sort of greases the wheels.»

«I've been thinking about her,» he said. «Perhaps, on the way back, we could go by the vicarage and you could show me which room is hers.»

«I don't know that myself. But I'll get Graymalk to show me. Then I'll show you.»

«Do that.»

We walked on, coming at last to the slopes of the small hill I had determined to be the center.

«So this is the place?» he remarked.

«More or less. Give or take a little, every which way. I don't usually work with maps the way most do.»

We wandered a bit then.

«Just your average hillside,» he finally said. «Nothing special about it, unless those trees are the remains of a sacred grove.»

«But they're saplings. They look like new growth to me.»

«Yes. Me, too. I've a funny feeling you're still missing something in the equation. I'm in this version?»

«Yes.»

«We've discussed this before. If you take me out of it, where does that move it to?»

«The other side of the hill and farther south and east. Roughly the same distance as from your place to a point across the road from Owen's.»

«Let's take a look.»

We climbed the hill and climbed back down the other side. Then we walked southeastward.

Finally, we came to a marshy area, where I halted.

«Over that way,» I said. «Maybe fifty or sixty paces. I don't see any point in mucking around in it when we can see it from here. It all looks the same.»

«Yes. Unpromising.» He scanned the area for a time. «Either way, then,» he finally said, «you must still be leaving something out.»

«A mystery player?» I asked. «Someone who's been lying low all this time?»

«It seems as if there must be. Hasn't it ever happened before?»

I thought hard, recalling Games gone by.

«It's been tried,» I said then. «But the others always found him out.»

«Why?»

«Things like this,» I said. «Pieces that don't fit any other way.»

«Well?»

«This is fairly late in the game. It's never gone this long. Everyone's always known everyone else by this time, with only about a week to go.»

«In those situations where someone was hiding out, how did you go about discovering him?»

«We usually all know by the Death of the Moon. If something seems wrong afterward that can only be accounted for by the presence of another player, the power is then present to do a divinatory operation to determine the person's identity or location.»

«Don't you think it might be worth giving it a try?»

«Yes. You're right. Of course, it's not really my specialty. Even though I know something about all of the operations, I'm a watcher and I'm a calculator. I'll get someone else to give it a try, though.»

«Who?»

«I don't know yet. I'll have to find out who's good at it, and then suggest it formally, so that I get to share the results. I'll share them with you then, of course.»

«What if it's someone you can't stand?»

«Doesn't matter. There are rules, even if you're trying to kill each other. If you don't follow them, you don't last long. I may have something that that person will want, like the ability to do an odd calculation, say, for something other than the center.»

«Such as?»

«Oh, the place where a body will be found. The place where a certain herb can be located. The store that carries a particular ingredient.»

«Really? I never knew about those secondary calculations. How hard are they to perform?»

«Some are very hard. Some are easy.»

We turned and began walking back.

«How hard's the body-finding one?» he asked as we climbed the hill.

«They're fairly easy, actually.»

«What if you tried it for the police officer we put in the river?»

«Now that could be tricky, since there are a lot of extra variables involved. If you just misplaced a body, though, or knew that someone had died but didn't know where, that wouldn't be too hard.»

«That does sound like a kind of divination,» he said.

«When you talk about being an 'anticipator,' of having a pretty good idea of when something's going to happen, or how, or who will be there, isn't that a kind of divination?»

«No. I think it's more a kind of subconscious knack for dealing with statistics, against a fairly well-known field of actions.»

«Well, some of my calculations would probably be a lot closer to doing overtly what you seem to do subconsciously. You may well be an intuitive calculator.»

«That business about finding the body, though. That smacks of divination.»

«It only seems that way to an outsider. Besides, you've just seen what can happen to my calculations if I'm missing some key factor. That's hardly divinatory.»

«Supposing I told you that I've had a strong feeling all morning that one of the players has died?»

«That's a little beyond me, I'm afraid. I'd need to know who it was, and some of the circumstances. I really deal more with facts and probabilities than things like that. Are you serious about your feeling?»

«Yes, it's a real anticipation.»

«Did you feel it when the Count got staked?»

«No, I didn't. But then, I don't believe he'd technically have been considered living, to begin with.»

«Quibble, quibble,» I said, and he caught the smile and smiled back. It takes one to know one, I guess.

«You want to show me Dog's Nest? You've gotten me curious.»

«Come on,» I said, and we went and climbed up to it.

At the top, we walked around a bit, and I showed him the stone we had been sucked through. Its inscription had become barely noticeable scratchings again. He couldn't make them out either.

«Nice view from here, though,» he said, turning and studying the land about us. «Oh, there's the manse. I wonder whether Mrs. Enderby's cuttings are taking?»

There was my opening. I could have seized it right then, I suppose, and told him the whole story, from Soho to here. But, at least, I realized then what was holding me back. He reminded me of someone I once knew: Rocco. Rocco was a big, floppy-eared hound, always happy, bouncing about and slavering over life with such high spirits that some found it annoying, and he was very single-minded. I called to him one day on the street and he just dashed across, not even paying puppy-attention to his surroundings. Got run over by a cart. I rushed to his side, and damned if he still didn't seem happy to see me in those final minutes. If I'd kept my muzzle shut he could have stayed happy a lot longer. Now… . Well, Larry wasn't stupid like Rocco, but he had a similar capacity for enthusiasm, long frustrated by a big problem, in his case. He seemed on the way to working out some means for dealing with the problem now, and the Great Detective in the guise he had assumed was cheering him up a good deal. Since I didn't really see him as giving much away, I thought of Rocco and said the hell with it. Later.

We climbed down then and headed back, and I let him tell me about tropical plants and temperate plants and arctic plants and diurnal-nocturnal plant cycles and herbal medicines from many cultures. When we neared Rastov's place, I saw at first what appeared a piece of rope hanging from a tree limb, blowing in the wind. A moment later I realized it to be Quicklime, signaling for my attention.

I veered to the left hand side of the road, quickening my pace.

«Snuff! I was looking for you!» he called. «He's done it! He's done it!»

«What?» I asked him.

«Did himself in. I found him hanging when I returned from my foraging. I knew he was depressed. I told you…»

«How long ago was this?»

«About an hour ago,» he said. «Then I went to look for you.»

«When did you go out?»

«Before dawn.»

«He was all right then?»

«Yes. He was sleeping. He'd been drinking last night.»

«Are you sure he did it to himself?»

«There was a bottle on a table nearby.»

«That doesn't mean anything, the way he'd been drinking.»

Larry had halted when he'd seen I was engaged in a conversation. I excused myself from Quicklime to bring him up to date.

«Sounds as if your anticipation was right,» I said. «But I couldn't have calculated this one.»

Then a thought occurred.

«The icon,» I said. «Is it still there?»

«It wasn't anywhere in sight,» Quicklime replied. «But it usually isn't, unless he takes it out for some reason.»

«Did you check where he normally keeps it?»

«I can't. That would take hands. There's a loose board under his bed. It lies flush and looks normal, but comes up easily for someone with fingers. There's a hollow space beneath it. He keeps it there, wrapped in a red silk bandana.»

«I'll get Larry to lift the board,» I said. «Is there an unlocked door?»

«I don't know. You'll have to try them. Usually, he keeps them locked. If they are, my window is opened a crack, as usual. You can raise it up and get in that way.»

We headed for the house. Quicklime slithered down and followed us.

The front door was unlocked. We entered and waited till Quicklime was beside us.

«Which way?» I asked him.

«Straight ahead, through the door,» he said.

We did that, entering a room I had viewed from outside on an earlier inspection. And Rastov hung there, from a rope tied to a rafter, wild black hair and beard framing his pale face, dark eyes bugged, a trickle of blood having run from the left corner of his mouth into his beard, dried now into a dark, scarlike ridge. His face was purple and swollen. A light chair lay on its side nearby.

We studied his remains for only a moment, and I found myself recalling the old cat's remarks from yesterday. Was this the blood he had referred to?

«Where's the bedroom?» I asked.

«Through the door to the rear,» Quicklime replied.

«Come on, Larry,» I said. «We need you to raise a board.»

The bedroom was a mess, with heaps of empty bottles all about. And the bed was disheveled, its linen smelling of stale human sweat.

«There's a loose board under the bed,» I said to Larry. To Quicklime, then, «Which board is it?»

Quicklime slipped beneath and halted atop the third one in.

«This one,» he said.

«The one Quicklime's showing us,» I told Larry. «Raise it, please.»

Larry knelt and reached, catching an edge with his fingernails. He found purchase almost immediately and drew it gently upward.

Quicklime looked in. I looked in. Larry looked in. The red bandana was still there, but no three-by-nine-inch piece of wood with an eerie painting on it.

«Gone,» Quicklime commented. «It must be somewhere back in the room, with him. We must have missed it.»

Larry replaced the board and we returned to the room where Rastov hung. We searched thoroughly, but it did not seem to be present.

«I don't think he killed himself,» I said finally. «Somebody overpowered him while he was drunk or hung over, then did that to him. They wanted it to look as if he did it to himself.»

«He was pretty strong,» Quicklime responded. «But if he'd started in drinking again this morning, he might not have been able to defend himself well.»

I relayed our conjectures to Larry, who nodded.

«And the place is so messy you can't really tell whether there was a struggle,» he said. «Though, for that matter, the killer could have straightened some furniture afterwards. I'll have to go to the constable. I'll tell him I dropped by, found the door open and walked in. At least, I'd visited here before. It's not as if we'd never met. He won't know we weren't that well acquainted.»

«I guess that's best,» I told him. Returning my gaze to the corpse, I said, «Can't tell from his clothes either. Looks as if he'd slept in them, more than once.»

We moved back to the front room.

«What are you going to do now, Quicklime?» I asked. «You want to move in with Jack and me? That might be simplest, us closers sticking together.»

«I think not,» he hissed. «I think I'm done with the Game. He was a good man. He took good care of me. He cared about people, about the whole world.

What's that human notion, compassion. He had a lot of that. It's one of the reasons he drank a lot, I think. He felt everybody else's pain too much. No. I'm done with the Game. I'll slip back to the woods now. I still know a few burrows, a few places where the mice make their runs. Leave me alone here for a while now. I'll see you around, Snuff.»

«Whatever you think is best, Quicklime,» I said. «And if the winter gets too rough, you know where we live.»

«I do. Good-bye.»

«Good luck.»

Larry let me out and we walked back to the road.

«I'll be going this way, then,» he said, turning right.

«And I'll be going this way.»

I turned left.

«See you soon for the follow-up on this,» he said.

«Yes.»

I headed home. «And you will lose a friend», the old cat had said that, too. It had slipped my mind till now.

Jack was not in, and I did the rounds quickly, leaving everything in good order. Stepping outside then, I located his spoor and tracked him to Crazy Jill's.

Graymalk watched me from atop the wall.

«Hello, Snuff,» she said.

«Hello, Gray. Jack is here?»

«Yes, he is in having a meal with the mistress. He ran low on supplies and she decided to feed him before their trip.»

«Trip?» I asked. «What trip?»

«A shopping trip, into town.»

«He did say something about being low on necessaries, and needing to visit the market soon… .»

«Yes. So he's sent for a coach. It should be here in an hour or so. It will be exciting to see the town again.»

«You're going, too?»

«We're all going. The mistress also needs some things.»

«Shouldn't we stay behind to guard the places?»

«The mistress has a very good daylong warding spell, which she will share. It will also capture likenesses of attempted trespassers. I understand that a part of the reason we are going this way is to see whether anyone tries such a thing. Everyone will see our coach go by. On our return, we may learn who are our most important enemies.»

«This was decided recently, I take it?»

«Just this morning, while you were out.»

«This may be a good time for it,» I acknowledged, «with the big event only a week from tomorrow, and in light of the way things have been going.»

«Oh?» She rose, stretched, and jumped down from the wall. «There are new developments?»

«Walk with me,» I said.

«Where?»

«To the vicarage. You said we have an hour.»

«All right.»

We left the yard, headed south.

«Yes,» I told her as we went, «we've lost the mad monk,» and I recounted the morning's events.

«And you think the vicar did it?» she asked.

«Probably. He seems our most militant player. But that's not why I wanted to visit his focus. I just wanted to learn the location of the room where he keeps Lynette a prisoner.»

«Of course,» she said. «If he has the Count's ring and the Alhazred Icon as well as the pentacle bowl, he could do some pretty nasty things between now and next week. You said they mainly increased his technical prowess, and I thought you meant for the ceremony. But he could hurt people with them right now. I asked the mistress.»

«Well, that's technical.»

«But you acted as if it weren't important.»

«I still don't think it is. He'd be a fool to use the actual tools that way, when he should be relying on his own abilities. The tools have a way of producing repercussive effects when they're used extracurricularly. He could wind up hurting himself badly unless he's a real master, and I don't think he is.»

«How can you be sure?»

«I doubt a master would run around with a crossbow, shooting at bats, or plan a human sacrifice when it's not absolutely necessary, just to be safe. He's insecure in his power. A master aims at economy of operations, not proliferation.»

«That sounds right, Snuff. But if he's too insecure mightn't he be tempted to try an operation with the tools against the rest of us, anyway, just to narrow the field and make things easier for himself later on?»

«If he's that foolish, the results are on his own head.»

«And the person he directs the power against, don't forget that. It could be you.»

«I understand you're safe if your heart is pure.»

«I'll try to remember that.»

When we reached the vicarage she led me around to the rear.

«Up there,» she said, looking at a window directly overhead. «That's her room.»

«I've never seen her about,» I said.

«I gather from Tekela that she's been locked up for several weeks.»

«I wonder how securely?»

«Well, she hasn't come out, to my knowledge. And I told you I saw a chain around her ankle.»

«How thick?»

«That's hard to say. You want me to climb up and take another look?»

«Maybe. I wonder whether the vicar is in?»

«We could check the stable, see whether his horse is there.»

«Let's do that.»

So we headed to the small stable in the rear and entered there. There were two stalls, and both were empty.

«Off on a call,» she said.

«What do you want?» came a voice from the rafters.

Looking up, I beheld the albino raven.

«Hello, Tekela,» Graymalk said. «We were just passing by, and wanted to see whether you'd heard the news about Rastov.»

There followed a moment's silence, then, «What about Rastov?»

«He's dead,» Graymalk said. «Hanged.»

«And what of the snake?»

«Gone back to the woods.»

«Good. I never liked snakes. They raid nests, eat eggs.»

«Have you any news?»

«Only that the big man has been about again. There was an argument at the farmhouse and he went out to the barn for a time and crouched in a corner. The Good Doctor went after him and there was more argument. He ran off into the night then. Went back later, though.»

«That's interesting. I wonder what it was about.»

«I don't know.»

«Well, we'll be going now. Good-bye.»

«Yes.»

We departed and returned to the vicarage. Graymalk looked back.

«She can't see us from that rafter,» she said. «Do you want me to climb up?»

«Wait,» I said. «I want to try a trick I learned from Larry.»

I approached the back door and I checked the stable again. I could see no flash of white.

Rising onto my hind legs, I put a paw against the door for balance, held it a moment, then dropped it to join the other in pressing on the knob toward its center. I turned my body as I made the effort. I had to try three times, adjusting my grip. The third time it went far enough to make a clicking sound and my weight caused the door to swing inward. I dropped into a normal position and entered.

«That's quite a trick,» she said, following me. «Do you feel any wards?»

«No.»

I pushed the door almost shut with my shoulder. It had to be paw-openable, quickly, on our return.

«Now what?» she asked.

«Let's find the stairway. I'd like to see how the girl is secured.»

We stopped in the study on the way and she showed me the bowl and its skull. The bowl was indeed the real thing. I'd seen it many times before. Neither the icon nor the ring lay in such plain sight, however, and I hadn't the time to try my skills on drawers. We returned to our search for a stair.

It was located along the west wall. We mounted it, and Graymalk led me to Lynette's room. The door was closed, but it did not seem necessary that it be locked, with her chained up.

I tried the door trick again and it worked the first time. I'd have to see whether Larry had any other good ones… .

As we entered, Lynette's eyes widened, and she said, «Oh.»

«I'll go rub up against her and let her pet me,» Graymalk said. «That makes people happy. You can be looking at the chain while I do that.»

It was actually the locks in which I was most interested. But even as I advanced to do that I heard the distant clopping of a horse's hoofs, approaching at a very rapid pace.

«Uh-oh,» Graymalk said amid purrings, as the girl stroked her and told her how pretty she was. «Tekela must have seen us come in, flew off and given alarm.»

I went through with my inspection. The chain was heavy enough to do its job, and the lock that secured it to the bed frame was impressively heavy. The one which fastened it to Lynette's ankle was smaller, but still hardly a thing to be dealt with in a moment.

«I know enough,» I said, as the hoofbeats came up beside the house, turned the corner, and I heard a horse blowing heavily.

«Race you home!» Graymalk said, leaping to the floor and running for the stair.

The rider was dismounting as we bounded to the first floor. A second or two later I heard the back door open, then slam.

«Bad,» Graymalk said. Then, «I can occupy the vicar.»

«The hell with him! I'm going to take out the study window!»

I reached the corner just as the nasty little man came around the other corner, a riding crop in his hand. I had to slow to turn into the room and he brought it down across my back. Before he could strike a second time, though, Graymalk had leaped into his face, all of her claws extended.

I bounded across the room, a scream rising at my back, and leaped at the window, closing my eyes as I hit. I took the thing with me, mullions and all. Turning then, I sought Graymalk.

She was nowhere in sight but I heard her yowl from within. Two bounds and a leap brought me back into the room. He was holding her high by her hind legs and swinging the crop. When it connected she screamed and he let her fall, for he had not expected me to return, let alone be coming at him low off the floor with my ears flat and a roar in my throat straight from my recent refresher with Growler.

He swung the crop but I came in beneath it. If Graymalk were dead, I was going to kill him. But I heard her call out, «I'm leaving!» as I struck against his chest, knocking him over backward.

My jaws were open and his throat had been my target. But I heard her going out the window, and I turned my head and bit hard, hearing cartilage crunch as I drew my teeth along through his right ear. Then I was off of him, across the room, and following Graymalk outside to the sounds of his screams.

«Want to ride on my back?» I called to her.

«No! Just keep going!»

We ran all the way home.

As we lay there in the front yard, me panting and her licking herself, I said, «Sorry I got you into that, Gray.»

«I knew what I was doing,» she said. «What did you do to him there at the end?»

«I guess I mangled his ear.»

«Why?»

«He hurt you.»

«I've been hurt worse than that.»

«That doesn't make it right.»

«Now you have a first-class enemy.»

«Fools have no class.»

«A fool might try the tools against you. Or something else.»

I interrupted my panting to sigh. Just then a bird-shaped shadow slid across us. Looking up, I was not surprised to see Tekela go by.

After lunch and a quick running of my rounds the coach came by, and we all entered and embarked for town. It had room for me to sit beside a window while Graymalk curled up on the seat across from me. Master and mistress faced each other to my right, chatting, beside a window of their own. I'd received only a few minor cuts from the glass, but Graymalk had a nasty welt along her right side. My heart did not feel pure when I thought of the vicar.

I watched the sky. Before we'd gone a mile I caught sight of Tekela again. She circled above the coach, then swooped low for a look inside. Then she was gone. I did not awaken Graymalk to remark upon it.

The sky was cloudy, and a wind occasionally buffeted the coach. When we passed the Gipsies' camp there was small activity within and no music. I listened to the horses clop along, muttering about the ruts and the driver's propensity to lay on the lash at the end of a long day. I was glad I wasn't a horse.

After a long while we came to the bridge and crossed over. I looked out across the dirty waters and wondered where the officer had gotten to. I wondered whether he had a family.

As we moved along Fleet Street to the Strand and then down Whitehall, I caught occasional glimpses of an albino raven, variously perched, watching. We made several stops for purchases along the way, and finally, when we disembarked in Westminster, site of many a midnight stroll, Jack said to me, «Let's meet back here in about an hour and a half. We've a few esoteric purchases to make.» This was fine with me, as I enjoy wandering city streets. Graymalk took me to see the mews where she'd once hung out.

We spent the better part of an hour strolling, sorting through collected smells, watching the passersby.

Then, in an alley we'd chosen for a shortcut, I had a distinct feeling halfway down its length, that something was wrong. This came but moments before the compact figure of the vicar emerged from a recessed doorway, a bulging bandage upon his ear, lesser dressings covering his cheeks. Tekela rode upon his shoulder, her white merging with that of the bandages, giving to his head a grotesque, lopsided appearance. She must have been giving him directions as to our movements. I showed them my teeth and kept moving. Then I heard a footfall behind me. Two men with clubs had sprung from another doorway and were already upon me, swinging them. I tried to turn upon them, but it was too late. I heard the vicar laugh right before one of the bludgeons fell upon my head. My last sight was of Graymalk, streaking back up the alley.

I awoke inside a dirty cage, a sickening smell in my nose, my throat, my lungs. I realized that I had been given chloroform. My head hurt, my back hurt. I drew and expelled several deep breaths to clear my breathing apparatus. I could hear whimpers, growls, a pathetic mewing, and faint, sharp barks of pain from many directions. When my sense of smell began to work again, all manner of doggy and catty airs came to me. I raised my head and looked about and wished I hadn't.

Mutilated animals occupied cages both near and far, dogs and cats without tails or the proper number of legs, a blind puppy whose ears had been cut off, a cat missing large patches of her skin, raw flesh showing at which she licked, mewing constantly the while. What mad place was this? I checked myself over quickly, to make certain I was intact.

At the room's center was an operating table, a large tray of instruments beside it. On hooks next to the door across the way hung a number of once-white laboratory coats with suspicious-looking stains upon them.

As my head cleared my memory returned to me, and I realized what had happened. The vicar had delivered me into the hands of a vivisectionist. At least Graymalk had escaped. That was something.

I inspected the door to my cage. It was a simple enough latch that held it shut, but the mesh was too fine for me to reach through and manipulate it. And the mesh was too tough to be readily breached by tooth or claw. What would Growler counsel? Things were a lot simpler in the primeval wood.

The most obvious plan was to fake lassitude when they came for me, then to spring to attack as soon as the cage door was opened. I'd a feeling, though, that I wasn't the first ever to think of such a ploy, and where were the others now? Still, I couldn't just lie there and contribute to medical understanding. So unless something better came along I resolved to give this plan a try when they came for me.

When they did, of course, they were ready. They'd a lot of expertise with fangs and knew just how to go about it. There were three of them, and two had on elbow-length padded gloves. When I pulled the awake, lunge, and bite maneuver I got a padded forearm forced back between my jaws, and my legs were seized and held while someone twisted an ear painfully. They were very efficient, and they had me strapped to the table in less than a minute. I wondered just how long I had been unconscious.

I listened to their conversation as they began their preparations:

«Strange, 'im payin' us so well to do a job on this 'un,» said the one who had twisted my ear.

«Well, it is a strange job, and it does involve some extra work,» said the one who was arranging the instruments into neat little rows. «Bring over some clean parts buckets. He was very specific that when we render him down, a piece at a time, for candles, there be no foreign blood or other materials mixed in.»

«'Ows 'e to know?»

«For what he's paying he can have it his way.»

«I'll 'ave to scrub 'em out.»

«Do it.»

A brief reprieve, to the sound of running water, followed, drowning out some of the whimpers and cries which were beginning to get to me.

«And where's the cask for his head?»

«I left it in t'other room.»

«Get it. I want everything to hand. Nice doggy.» He patted my head as we waited. The muzzle they'd gotten onto me prevented my expressing my opinion.

«He was a strange one,» said the third man, a thin, blond fellow with very bad teeth, who had been silent till then. «What's special about doggy candles?»

«Don't know and don't care,» said the one who had patted me, a large, beefy man with very blue eyes, and he returned his attention to his instruments. «We give a customer what he pays for.»

The other returned then, a short man with wide shoulders, large hands, and a tic at the corner of his mouth. He bore what looked like an odd-sized lunch pail. «I have it now,» he said.

«Good. Then gather round for a lesson.»

Then I heard it, Dzzp!, a high-pitched whine descending to a low throb in about three seconds each cycle. It is above the range of the human ear, and it accompanies the main curse, circling at a range of about a hundred fifty yards initially. Dzzp!

«First, I will remove the left rear leg,» began the beefy man as he reached for a scalpel.

The others drew near, reaching after other instruments and holding them ready for him.

Dzzp! The circle might well be smaller by now, of course.

There came a loud pounding upon an outer door.

«The devil!» said the beefy man.

«Shall I see who 'tis?» asked the smaller man.

«No. We're operating. He can come back if it's important.»

Dzzp!

It came again, more heavily; this time it was obviously the sound of someone kicking upon the door.

«Inconsiderate lout!»

«Ruffian!»

«Churl!»

Dzzp!

The third time that the knocking occurred it seemed as if each blow were performed by a strong man striking his shoulder against the door, attempting to break it down.

«What cheek!»

«Per'aps I should 'ave words with 'im.»

«Yes, do.»

The shorter man took a single step toward the entrance when a splintering sound reached us from the next room, followed by a loud crash.

Dzzp!

Heavy footsteps crossed the outer room. Then the door immediately across from me was flung open. Jack stood upon the threshold, staring at the cages, the vivisectionists, myself upon the table. Graymalk peered in from behind him.

«Just who do you think you are, bursting into a private laboratory?» said the beefy man.

«… Interrupting a piece of scientific research?» said the tall man.

«… And damaging our door?» said the short man with the wide shoulders and large hands.

I could see it now, like a black tornado, surrounding Jack, settling inward. If it entered him completely he would no longer be in control of his actions.

«I've come for my dog,» he said. «That's him on your table.»

He moved forward.

«No, you don't, laddie,» said the beefy man. «This is a special job for a special client.»

«I'll be taking him and leaving now.»

The beefy man raised his scalpel and moved around the table.

«This can do amazing things to a man's face, pretty boy,» he said.

The others picked up scalpels, also.

«I'd guess you've never met a man as really knows how to cut,» the beefy one said, advancing now.

Dzzp!

It was into him, and that funny light came into his eyes, and his hand came out of his pocket and captured starlight traced the runes on the side of his blade.

«Well-met,» Jack said then, through the teeth of his grin, and he continued to walk straight ahead.

When we left I realized that the old cat had been right about the seas and messes, too. I wondered what sort of light they would give.