A Night in the Lonesome October Page 2
«Would you show us this place?» I asked.
«Follow me.»
We did, and after a long trek we came to the farmhouse. There were lights in its basement but the windows were curtained and we could not see what the Good Doctor was about. There were many odors of death in the air, however.
«Thank you, Nightwind,» I said. «Have you any others?»
«No. Have you?»
«No.»
«Then I would say that we are even.»
He took wing and hurried off through the night.
As I crouched sniffing near a window I traced trails from Morris and MacCab's place to this one, from this one to Crazy Jill's, to my own, to Owen's, from Owen's to the others'… . It was hard keeping all of the trails in mind at once.
I leaped at the bright flash and the crackling sound from behind the window. The smell of ozone reached me moments later, and the sound of wild laughter.
«Yes, this place will bear watching,» Graymalk observed, from her sudden perch high in a nearby tree. «Shall we go now?»
«Yes.»
We headed back and I left her at Jill's, dropping the adjective out of politeness in her presence, and I left her to catnappery on her wall. When I returned home I found another paw-print.
October 6
Excitement. I heard the mirror crack this morning, and I ran and raised holy hell before it, keeping the slitherers inside. Jack heard the fuss and fetched his mundane wand and transferred them all to another mirror, just like the Yellow Emperor. This one was much smaller, which may teach them a lesson, but probably not. We're not sure how they did it. Continued pressure on some flaw, most likely. Good thing they're afraid of me.
Jack retired and I went outside. The sun was shining through gray and white clouds and only the crisp scents of autumn rode the breezes. I had been drawing lines in my head during the night. What I'd tried to do would have been much easier for Nightwind, Needle, or even Cheeter. It is hard for an earthbound creature to visualize the terrain in the manner I'd attempted. But I'd drawn lines from each of our houses to each of the others. The result was an elaborate diagram with an outer boundary and intersecting rays within. And once I have such a figure I can do things with it that the others cannot. It was necessarily incomplete because I did not know the whereabouts of the Count, or of any other players who might not yet have come to my attention.
Nevertheless, it was enough to play around with, was sufficient for seeking some approximation.
I began walking.
My way took me through yard and field to a lane which I followed for a time. When I reached what I deemed to be the proper spot I halted. There were several large old trees off to my left, another across the way to the right. The spot which I had so carefully derived by means of my mental mapmaking was situated, unfortunately, in the middle of the road. And it hadn't even the good grace to be a crossroad.
The nearest house was to my right and back several hundred yards along the way I had come. It was inhabited, I knew, by an elderly couple who fed birds, worked in their garden, and argued every Saturday night when the old man staggered in from the pub. In my earlier investigations of the area I had seen no signs that they might be involved in the Game.
I decided to sniff about, anyway. As I sought along the roadsides I heard a familiar voice:
«Snuff!»
«Nightwind! Where are you?»
«Overhead. There's a hollow place in this tree. Stayed out too long. Came in here to get away from the light. We think a bit alike, don't we?»
«Looks like we draw the same lines.»
«This can't be the place, though.»
«No. It's the center of the pattern we have, but it's not a likely spot.»
«Therefore the pattern is incomplete. But we knew that. We don't know where the Count is.»
«If he's the only other. It must take place at the center of the pattern we form.»
«Yes. What should we do?»
«Could you follow Needle back to the Count's place?»
«Bats are damnably erratic.»
«I couldn't do it. And I don't think Graymalk could.»
«No. Never trust a cat, anyway. All they're good for is stringing tennis racquets.»
«Will you try following Needle?»
«First I have to find the little bastard. But yes, I'll watch for him tonight.»
«Let me know what you find?»
«I'll think about it.»
«It might be to your advantage, if you ever need an errand run by day.»
«That's true. All right. Why do the players always form themselves into a pattern around the center of things, anyway?»
«Beats me,» I said.
I returned home, growling at the Things in the Mirror, propped in the front hallway now, as I passed, just to let them know I was on the job. The Thing in the Steamer Trunk was still. I told the Thing in the Wardrobe to shut up. Its pounding was shaking the place. I had to bark several times to get it to be quiet.
Down in the cellar the Thing in the Circle had become a Pekingese.
«You like little ladies?» it asked. «Come and get it, big fella.»
It still smelled of Thing rather than dog.
«You're not really very bright,» I said.
The Peke gave me the paw as I departed, and it's hard to turn your leg that way.
October 7
We were out again last night in pursuit of more ingredients for the Great Work. It was very foggy, and there were many patrolmen about. This did not stop us, but it made things more difficult. The master's blade flashed, the woman screamed, and there was a rending of garments. We passed the Great Detective in our flight, and I inadvertently tripped his companion, whose limp had lessened his ability to avoid onrushing canines.
As we crossed the bridge Jack unrolled the strip of cloth and regarded it.
«Very good. It is green,» he remarked.
Why his list of materials required the edge of a green cloak worn by a red-haired lady on this date at midnight and removed while still upon her person, I am uncertain. Magical rotas sometimes strike me as instructions for lunatic scavenger hunts. Nonetheless, Jack was happy so I was, too.
Much later, after an unsuccessful search for Nightwind, I returned home and was drowsing in the parlor when I heard a small scratching sound from the rear of the house. It did not come again. So I went into my stalking mode and investigated.
The kitchen was empty, the pantry was bare. I circulated.
At the entrance to the front hall I caught the scent. I halted, watched, listened. I became aware of a slight movement, low, and to my right, ahead.
It sat before the mirror watching the slitherers. I suspended breathing and edged forward. When I was near enough to catch it with a short lunge I said, «I trust you are finding your last moments amusing.»
It leaped and I was upon it, catching it at the base of the neck, a large, black rat.
«Wait! I can explain!» it said. «Snuff! You're Snuff! I came to see you!»
I waited, neither tightening nor loosening my hold. A toss of my head would snap its spine.
«Needle told me of you,» it went on. «Cheeter told me where to find you.»
I couldn't say anything, my mouth being occupied. So I continued to wait.
«Cheeter said you seemed reasonable, and I wanted to talk. Nobody was around outside, so I let myself in through the little door in the back. Could you put me down, please?»
I carried the rat to a corner, deposited him there, seating myself directly before him.
«So you are in the Game,» I said.
«Yes.»
«Then you must know that entering another player's home without invitation lays you open to immediate reprisal.»
«Yes, but it was the only way I knew to get in touch with you.»
«What is it you wanted to tell me?»
«I know Quicklime, and Quicklime knows Nightwind… .»
«Yes?»
«Quicklime says tha
t Nightwind told him you know a lot about who the players are and what they're about. And that you sometimes trade information. I'd like to trade some.»
«Why didn't you trade directly with Nightwind?»
«I've never met Nightwind. Owls scare me. Besides, I heard he's pretty closebeaked. Keeps everything close to his feathers, and keeps his pinions to himself.»
He chuckled at that. I did not.
«If you just wanted to talk, why were you snooping around?» I asked.
«I couldn't help being curious when I saw the things in the mirror.»
«Is this the first time you've been by?»
«Yes!»
«Who're you with?»
«The Good Doctor.»
«I've a friend named Graymalk who happens to be a cat. She comes around here a lot. If I think you're planning to make mischief I'm going to let her start coming in regularly.»
«I'm not looking for trouble, damn it! Let's keep the cat out of this!»
«Okay. What are you trading and what do you want?»
«I want you to tell me everybody you know who's in the Game, and where they live.»
«What do I get?»
«I know where the Count takes his rest.»
«Nightwind was going to seek that information.»
«He's not good enough to follow Needle through the woods. Owls can't zigzag the way bats can.»
«You may be right. You will take me to the place?»
«Yes. For a list of the others.»
«All right,» I said. «But you came to me. I get to make the terms. Show me the place first. Then I'll tell you who else is playing.»
«I agree.»
«And what may I call you?»
«Bubo,» he replied.
I backed away.
«Let's go,» I said.
Outside, it was chill, windy, and damp. A few clouds hung low in the west. The stars seemed very near.
«Which way?» I asked.
He indicated the southeast and headed in that direction. I followed.
He crossed several fields, coming at length to a stand of trees. He entered there.
«These are the woods where Needle might lose Nightwind?» I said.
«Yes.»
He led me among trees. Finally, we came to a very rocky clearing, and he halted.
«Yes?» I said.
«This is the place.»
«What is it?»
«The remains of an old church.»
I walked forward, sniffing. Nothing untoward… .
I climbed the low hill on which the ruins stood. Among the blocks of stone I saw an opening. When I peered within I saw that it continued downward.
«… Goes back,» I said, «as if this wasn't always ground level. As if much of it were covered up, overgrown… . We're actually standing above the ruin, aren't we?»
«I don't know. I've never been down in it,» he replied. «That isn't the spot. The cemetery's down the hill, over that way.»
He headed in the direction he'd indicated, and I followed. There were a few fallen, half-buried markers about. Then there was a bigger place, I realized, when I saw that lines of stone in the ground were what had been the tops of walls of a crypt. Weeds grew amid them. Bubo rushed forward, stood in their midst.
«See, there's a hole here,» he told me. «His stuff's down there.»
I moved toward it, looked inside. It was too dark for me to distinguish anything. I wished Nightwind or Graymalk had been along.
«I'll have to take your word for it,» I said, «for now.»
«Then tell me the names and places you'd promised.»
«I'll tell you as we walk along, away from here.»
«Does this place make you nervous?»
«It's not a month for taking chances,» I said.
He laughed.
«That's very funny,» he said.
«It is, isn't it?» I replied.
The dying moon came up above the trees, lighting our way.
With midnight's chimes speech comes to me. I rose and stretched, waiting for them to cease. Jack, having roused himself especially for the occasion, watched me with a mixture of amusement and interest.
«Busy day, Snuff?» he asked.
«We'd a visitor while you napped. The rat Bubo,» I said, «companion of the Good Doctor.»
«And?»
«We traded. A list of the players for the location of the Count's grave. He said it was in the cemetery to a ruined church to the southeast. Showed me the place.»
«Good work,» Jack replied. «How does this affect your calculations?»
«Hard to say. I'm going to think about it, and then I'll need to do some walking.»
«Still early in the Game,» he said. «You know how the picture can change.»
«True,» I replied. «But at least we're somewhat better-informed than we were. Of course, we must check the content of the crypt by day, to be certain. I think I can persuade Graymalk to do that.»
«Not Quicklime?»
«I trust the cat more. I'd rather share information with her, if it must be shared.»
«You know her persuasion, then?»
I shook my head.
«No, I'm just going by my feelings.»
«Has she spoken of her mistress, Jill?»
«Not in any detail.»
«I believe the lady is younger than she causes herself to appear.»
«That may be. I just don't know. I haven't met her.»
«I have. Let me know if the cat talks party politics.»
«I will, but she won't, not unless I do, and I'm not about to.»
«You're the best judge of that situation.»
«Yes. Neither of us has anything to gain by volunteering information at this time. But we might stand to lose something in the way of cooperation. Unless you've some overriding need for the information that I don't know about. In that case, though… .»
«I understand. No. Let it be. Have you learned it for any of the others?»
«No. Are we going out tonight?»
«No. We're set, for now. Have you any plans?»
«A little calculation and a lot of rest.»
«Sounds like a good idea.»
«Do you remember that time in Dijon, when that lady from the other side managed to distract you?»
«It's hard to forget. Why do you ask?»
«No special reason. Just reminiscing. Good night, Jack.»
I moved to my favorite corner and settled with my head upon my paws.
«'Night, Snuff.»
I listened to his retreating footsteps. It was time to visit Growler, for a workshop in advanced stalking. Soon the world went away.
October 8
I drew more lines in my head last night and this morning, but before I'd created a satisfactory picture we had a caller.
I barked twice when the door chimes sounded, because it was expected of me. The master went to the door and I followed.
A tall, solidly built man, dark-haired, was on the stoop, and he smiled.
«Hello,» he said, «my name's Larry Talbot. I'm your new neighbor, and I thought I'd come by and pay my respects.»
«Won't you come in and have a cup of tea with me?» Jack said.
«Thank you.»
Jack led him into the parlor and seated him, excused himself, and went to the kitchen. I stayed in the parlor and watched. Talbot glanced several times at the palm of his hand. Then he studied me.
«Good boy,» he said.
I opened my mouth, let my tongue hang out, and panted a few times. But I did not approach him. There was something about the way he smelled, an underlying suggestion of wildness, that puzzled me.
Jack returned with a tray of tea and biscuits and they chatted for a time, about the neighborhood, the weather, the recent rash of grave robbings, the killings. I watched them, two big men, the air of the predator about each, sipping their tea now and discussing the exotic flowers Talbot cultivated and how they might fare, even indoors, in this climate.
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Then came a terrible crash from the attic.
I departed the room immediately, bounding up the stair, swinging around corners. Up another stair… .
The wardrobe doors were open. The Thing stood before it.
«Free!» it announced, flexing its limbs, furling and unfurling its dark, scaly wings. «Free!»
«Like hell!» I said, curling back my lips and leaping.
I caught it directly in the midsection, knocking it back into the wardrobe again. I slashed twice, left and right, as it sought to seize me. I dropped down and bit one of its legs. I roared and threw myself on it again, slashing faceward.
It drew back, retreating to the rear of its prison, leaving a heavy scent of musk in the air. I shouldered the doors shut, reared up, and tried to close the latch with my paw. Jack entered just then and did it for me. He held his knife loosely in his right hand.
«You are an exemplary watchdog, Snuff,» he stated.
A moment later Larry Talbot came in.
«Problems?» he said. «Anything I can help with?»
The blade vanished before Jack turned.
«No, thank you,» he said. «It was less serious than it sounded. Shall we return to our tea?»
They departed.
I followed them down the stairs, Talbot moving as silently as the master. I'd a feeling, somehow, that he was in the Game, and that this incident had persuaded him that we were, too. For as he was leaving he said, «I see some busy days ahead, before this month is out. If you ever need help, of any sort, you can count on me.»
Jack studied him for several long moments, then replied, «Without even knowing my persuasion?»
«I think I know it,» Talbot answered.
«How?»
«Good dog you've got there,» Talbot said. «Knows how to close a door.»
Then he was gone. I followed him home, of course, to see whether he really lived where he said he did. When I saw that he did I had even more lines to draw. Interesting ones now, though.
He never turned and looked back, yet I knew that he could tell I was behind him all the way.
Later, I lay in the yard, drawing my lines. It had become a much more complicated enterprise. Footsteps approached along the road, halted.