A Night in the Lonesome October Page 17
We walked again in silence, then, «I want to stand near you in the arc,» she said. «I believe the vicar will be at the left end, with Morris and MacCab next to him, Tekela and Nightwind with them, then Jill. I will stand to her right. I will assume a position three paces forward. That would put you and Jack beside us.»
«Oh?»
«Yes, I've been working for this arrangement. You must be to my right and slightly back, that is, to Jack's left.»
«Why?»
«Because something bad may happen if you stand to his right.»
«How do you know this?»
«My small wisdom.»
I thought about it. The old cat in the Dreamworld was obviously on her side, and she was an opener. Therefore, he could be setting me up for something. However, his remarks concerning the Elders had almost seemed disparaging, and he had seemed kindly disposed toward me. Reason stopped here. I knew that I had to trust my feelings.
«I'll do it.»
When we neared our area, I said, «I'm going to walk over again to see whether Larry's back. Want to come with?»
«No. That meeting… .»
«All right. Well, It's, been good.»
«Yes. I never knew a dog this well before.»
«Same with cats and me. I'll see you later, then.»
«Yes.»
She headed home.
I searched all around Larry's place again, but there was no sign of his return.
On my way home, I heard my name hissed from a clump of weeds.
«Snuff, old boy. Good to see you. I was on my way over. Saved me a trip… .»
«Quicklime! What have you been up to?»
«Hanging out in that orchard, eating the hard stuff,» he said. «Just stopped by for a quick one, on the way over.»
«Why were you coming to see me?»
«Learned something. Wanted you to know.»
«What?» I asked.
«I picked up a bad habit from Rastov, I guess. Look at me. I feel like I'm shedding my skin.»
«You're not.»
«I know. But I really liked him. When I left you, I headed for the orchard and just started eating the old, fermented ones. It was, snug, with him. I felt like somebody needed me. The fruit's almost gone now. I'll come around. I'll be all right. But I'll miss him. He was a good man. The vicar got him, that's what Nightwind told me. Wanted to narrow the field. That's why the Count disposed of Owen, to send the vicar a message. You'll get the vicar, won't you?»
«Quick, I think you've had too much. Owen was killed after the Count was staked.»
«Clever, isn't he? That's what I was coming to tell you about. He fooled us. He's still around.»
«What? How?»
«When I reached the peak of my indulgence the other night,» he replied, «I suddenly felt terribly lonely. I didn't want to be alone, so I went looking for someone, something, lights, movement, sounds. I went over to the Gipsy camp, which was perfect. I curled up beneath a wagon, planning to spend the night there and sleep it off. But I overheard parts of a conversation from the wagon which led me to make my way up between its floorboards. I had chosen the wagon, and a pair of guards were in it. Sometimes they'd speak in their own tongue, sometimes in English, the younger one wanted the practice. I spent the night in there instead of below. But I learned the story. I even found an opening that gave me a view of the casket».
«He's with the Gipsies?»
«Yes. They guard him by day as he sleeps, guard the casket at night when he's away.»
«So he'd faked it,» I said. «Dressed the skeleton we'd found in his garments, put the stake into it himself.»
«Yes, the crumbly skeleton that was already there.»
«… And that's why the ring wasn't on it.»
«Yes, and he was safe in that, too. Anybody finding the remains would assume that the staker had taken it.»
I felt a chill.
«Quick, he did make this arrangement after the death of the moon, didn't he?»
«Yes. Your calculations would be unaffected.»
«Good. But this I don't understand, the Count killed Owen because the vicar killed Rastov. Owen was an opener. Does that reflect a particular sympathy on the part of the Count? Or was he simply out to check the vicar and keep the violence from spreading?»
«I don't know. Nothing was said on the matter.»
I growled softly.
«This is a complicated one,» I said.
«Agreed. Now you know everything I do.»
«Thanks. Want to come with me?»
«No. I'm really out of the Game. Good luck.»
«'Luck, Quick.»
I heard him slither off.
It rained a little that afternoon, and stopped shortly after sunset. I went outside to look for the moon, and Bubo came with me. The clouds still veiled her, however, and all we could see was the big area of brightness she shed in the east. The wind blew chill.
«So this is it,» Bubo said. «By morning it will all be decided.»
«Yes.»
«I wish I could have been playing all along.»
«A wish on the moon,» I said. «It may be true. You have been playing, in a way. You've traded information, you've watched things develop, same as the rest of us.»
«Yes, but I didn't really do important things like the rest of you.»
«It's mainly the little things, all added up, that give us the final picture, that make the difference.»
«I suppose so,» he said. «Yes, it was fun. Do you think, Could I possibly come with? I'd like to see it happen, however it goes.»
«I'm sorry,» I said. «We couldn't be responsible for a civilian, too. I think it's going to be a rough one.»
«I understand,» he replied. «I'd guessed you'd say that, but I had to ask.»
I left him there after a time, watching the sky. The moon was still hidden.
And so… .
We left before midnight, of course, Jack and I, he in a warm coat and carrying a satchel containing the equipment. Under his other arm, he bore a few small logs for the fire. We left without bothering to lock the door.
The sky was beginning to clear overhead, though the moon was still masked. There was sufficient light just from its glow-through, however, to show our way clearly. There was a chill, damp breeze at our backs.
Soon, Dog's Nest was before us, and Jack decided we should circle it and mount its eastern slope.
We did that, and as we came in sight of the top a small glow was already apparent off in the circle toward the stone with the inscription. Moving nearer, we saw that Vicar Roberts and Morris and MacCab were tending a small fire they had obviously just gotten going, nursing it to achieve greater compass. The vicar's ear was unbandaged now, and light showed through two high perforations in it. The heap of kindling was much larger than when Graymalk and I had been by earlier.
The banefire is a necessary part of our business. It goes all the way back into the misty vastness of our practices. Both sides require it, so in this sense it is a neutral instrument. After midnight, it comes to burn in more than one world, and we may add to it those things which enhance our personal strengths and serve our ends. It attracts otherworldly beings sympathetic to both sides, as well as neutral spirits who may be swayed by the course of the action. Voices and sights may pass through it, and it serves as a secondary, supportive point of manifestation to whatever the opening or closing object may be. Customarily, we all bring something to feed it, and it interacts with all of us throughout the ritual. I had urinated on one of our sticks, for example, several days earlier. There are times when players have been attacked by its flames; and I can recall an instance when one was defended by a sudden wall of fire it issued. It is also good for disposing of evidence. It comes in handy on particularly cold nights, too.
«Good evening,» Jack said as we approached, and he added his contribution to the woodpile.
«Good evening, Jack,» the vicar said, and Morris and MacCab nodded.
Lynette
lay on her back upon the altar, head turned in our direction, eyes closed, breathing slow. Well drugged, of course. She had on a long white garment, and her dark hair hung loose. I looked away. Obviously, the protest had been overridden. I sniffed the air. No sign of Jill or Graymalk yet.
The fire bloomed more brightly. Jack set his bag down and moved to help with it. I decided on a quick patrol of the area, and I made a big circuit. There was nothing unusual to be found. I went and stared at the huge stone. Just then the edge of the moon appeared from behind the clouds. Its light fell upon it. The markings had become visible again, dark, upon the illuminated surface. I went and sat by Jack's satchel.
The vicar had on a dark cloak which made a swishing sound as he moved. It did not conceal the fact that he was a short, slightly fat man, and it neither added to nor detracted from his appearance of menace. That was all in his face, with its intense expression of controlled mania. The moon was doubled in his glasses.
Under their joint ministrations the banefire grew to a respectable size. The vicar was the first to toss something into it, a small parcel which crackled and flared bluely. I took a sniff. It involved herbs I'd encountered before. Morris added two parcels, which I could tell involved bones. Jack added a very small one which produced a green flash. I tossed in one of my own, along with the pissed-on stick. The moon slid completely free of the clouds.
The vicar went and stared at the inscription, not even glancing at his stepdaughter. Then he backed away, turned to his left, took several paces, halted, turned back toward the stone. He adjusted his position slightly, then scuffed at the ground with his bootheel.
«I will position myself here,» he stated, glancing at Jack.
«I have no objection,» Jack said. «Your associates will be to your right, I presume?»
«That was what I had in mind. Morris here, MacCab to his right, then Jill,» he said, gesturing.
Jack nodded, just as a dark shape swept past the face of the moon. Moments later, Nightwind dropped out of the sky, coming to rest atop the woodpile.
«Hello, Snuff,» he observed. «Care to switch?»
«No, thanks. Yourself?»
He did one of those unusual rotations of his head.
«I think not, especially when we outnumber you in all respects.»
Shortly, Tekela swept in with a caw, landing upon the vicar's left shoulder.
«Greetings, Nightwind,» she said.
«A good Game to you, sister.»
She looked at me and looked away. She said nothing. Neither did I.
Everyone added more kindling and more ingredients to the fire. Finally, a pair of fairly large logs were set upon it. Many-colored flames played about them, and soon the logs darkened and the fires danced upon their surfaces. A mixture of odors reached me as powders, bones, herbs, fleshy samples of anatomy, both human and other, were added. A few vials of liquid were also dumped upon it, to smolder and produce heavy, crawling ropes of smoke, to flare brightly, briefly. Within the crackling, I seemed to hear a subliminal whispering begin.
I heard Jill's footsteps mounting the northern slope long before she appeared. When she did she was hard to distinguish against the night for several moments, as she had on a hooded black cloak over a long black dress. She looked taller, more slim; and she carried Graymalk, though she set her down immediately when she achieved the level area.
«Good evening,» she said, in general. All four men responded.
«Hi, Snuff,» Graymalk said, coming up beside me. «It's a good fire already.»
«Yes.»
«As you can see… .»
«You were overridden.»
«Did you find Larry?»
«No.»
«Oh my.»
«There is a backup plan,» I said, and Nightwind came by just then, to greet Graymalk.
I felt a strong desire to howl at the moon. It was such a howlable moon. But I restrained myself.
The smell of incense reached me. Jill had just begun casting parcels into the banefire. The moon moved nearer to midheaven.
«How will we know when it is time to begin?» Graymalk asked me.
«When we can talk with the people.»
«Of course.»
«How's your back?»
«It's all right now. You look fit.»
«I'm fine.»
We watched the fire for a time. Another log was added, and more packets. The smells became a sweetly seductive bouquet. The flames leaped higher now, changing colors regularly, flickering in the wind. Sharp, tinkling musical sounds came sporadically from their midst, and the sounds of voices rose into and out of audibility. Looking away from it, my gaze was attracted by a new light source. The inscription was beginning to glow. Overhead, the moon had reached midheaven.
«Jack, can you hear me?» I called.
«Loud and clear, Snuff. Well-met by moonlight. What's on your mind?»
«Just checking the time,» I said.
Suddenly Nightwind was talking to Morris and MacCab, Tekela to the vicar.
«I guess it's time,» Graymalk said, «to take our places.»
«It is,» I replied.
She went off to collect Jill, who was tossing a final packet into the fire. The air was distorted above its colored flames now, as if it were burning in more than one place simultaneously, and in the shimmering area just about it one could catch glimpses of some of those other places. From somewhere to the north, I heard the howl of a wolf.
The vicar went and stood at the spot he had indicated. Morris and MacCab moved to take up their positions to his right; Nightwind stood atop a rock between them. Then Jill moved to stand beside MacCab, Graymalk next to her but three cat-paces forward. I went and stood near her, Jack to my right. The line was bowed, out away from the big stone, with Jack and the vicar across from each other. Lynette dozed on the altar about ten feet in front of me.
From somewhere within his cloak, the vicar removed the pentacle bowl, which he placed on the ground before him. Then he withdrew the Alhazred Icon, which he propped against a rock to his left, facing the glowing stone. Nightwind moved to a new position, back behind the pentacle. The openers always begin things, as the closers' work is purely reactive.
Jack's satchel, to his right, was already open, from the removal of various ingredients for the banefire, but he leaned and spread its mouth fully, for easy access.
MacCab knelt and spread a piece of white cloth upon the ground before him. As it was windy, he weighted its corners with small stones. Then, from an ornate sheath which hung from his belt beneath his jacket, he drew a long, thin blade which looked to me like a sacrificial knife, and he placed this upon the cloth, point toward the altar.
Then the moon went out. We all looked upward as a dark shape covered it, descending, rushing toward us. Morris shrieked shrilly as it fell, changing shape as if dark veils swam about it. And then the moon shone again, and the piece of midnight sky which had fallen came to earth beside Jack, and I saw that vision-twisting transformation of which Graymalk had spoken, here, there, a twist, a swirl, a dark bending, and the Count stood at Jack's side, smiling a totally evil smile. He laid his left hand, the dark ring visible upon it, upon Jack's right shoulder.
«I stand with him,» he said, «to close you out.»
Vicar Roberts stared at him and licked his lips.
«I would think one of your sort more inclined to our view in this matter,» the vicar stated.
«I like the world just the way it is,» said the Count. «Pray, let us begin.»
The vicar nodded.
«We shall,» he said, «to its proper conclusion, with the Gate thrown wide.»
The Count tossed a twig and a small parcel into the flames. The fire moved in its colorful dance, crackling and chiming, burning a hole in the night, through which the voices, now chanting, emerged. Shadows constantly moved past us, over the altar, and across the face of the stone. I heard the howl again, much nearer.
I looked at the vicar and saw him flinch. But he straig
htened and performed an opening gesture. He spoke a word of power, deeply, slowly. It hung in the air and resonated afterwards.
The inscription on the stone began to glow a little more brightly, and now, very faintly, I could discern the formation of the door-like rectangle come to frame it, that configuration which earlier had sucked Graymalk and me through to our Dreamworld adventure.
The vicar repeated the word and the rectangle came clear.
Within the chanting, I could now hear faintly «Ia! Shub-Niggurath!» being repeated, as if in response. Ahead of me, Graymalk had risen to her feet and was standing very stiffly.
The vicar turned then, rather than proceeding to the next phase, and moved slowly to the cloth on which the sacrificial blade rested. To his rear, I noted that the Alhazred Icon had also begun to glow. He knelt and raised the blade with both hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Then he rose and turned toward the altar, Tekela still upon his shoulder.
And there came a movement from my right, beyond Jack and the Count. Another dark shape was moving to join us.
The vicar had taken but a single step ahead when a great, gray wolf moved into the firelight and rushed past him toward the altar. Larry Talbot had arrived, apparently in reasonable control of his faculties.
He seized hold of the girl's left shoulder with his teeth and dragged her down from the altar. With that rapid backing motion I had seen him employ before, he dragged her quickly before us toward the north, whence he had come, to my right.
The report of a gunshot filled the air and Larry staggered, a dark blot appearing and spreading high upon his left shoulder. The vicar held a smoking revolver, pointed in his direction. Larry continued moving almost immediately, however, and the vicar fired again.
This time there was blood on the top of Larry's head, and he uttered a moaning sound as his jaws fell open and Lynette dropped to the ground. Larry slumped forward then, and the shiftings of firelight and shadow swam over him. The chanting continued…”Ia! Shub-Niggurath!”…against the strange music. The vicar pulled the trigger again. There followed a clicking sound from the pistol, but no discharge. Immediately, he drew it near and worked the hammer. Suddenly, as he released it, there was a sharp report and the round kicked up dirt near the south end of the altar. The vicar hurled the weapon to the ground, perhaps having cast only three rounds. Homemade bullets… .