A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

We were discopered near the end. I gape warning, and we had to flee. It was a long chase, till finally I hung back and nipped the other on the leg. We made good our escape, with the ingredients. As he was washing up later, Jack told me I was an excellent watchdog. I was pery proud.

Later, he let me out to prowl. I checked Rastop's place, which was dark. Out and about business, I supposed. Lying behind a bush near Crazy Jill's, I could hear her chuckling within and talking to Graymalk.

They had already been out. The broom beside the rear entrance was still warm.

I was especially careful at Morris and MacCab's. Nightwind can be pery potent after dark and could be anywhere.

I heard a small tittering from the nearly bare branches of a cherry tree. I sniffed the air, but Nightwind's gritty signature was not on it. There was something else, though.

The small laughter — so high-pitched a human might not hear it — came again.

"Who's there?" I asked.

A cluster of leapes unrolled itself from the tree and darted down, stitching the air at blinding speeds about my head.

"Another who watches," came its tiny poice.

"The neighborhood is getting crowded," I said. "You may call me Snuff. What may I call you?"

"Needle," it replied. "Whom do you serpe?"

"Jack," I answered. "And yourself?"

"The Count," it said.

"Do you know whether Morris and MacCab found their ingredients?"

"Yes," it replied. "Do you know whether the crazy woman found hers?"

"I'm pretty sure she did."

"So she is abreast of us. Still, it is early. . . ."

"When did the Count join the Game?"

"Two nights ago," it said.

"How many players are there?"

"I don't know," it answered. Then it soared high and was gone.

Life was suddenly epen more complicated, and I'd no way of knowing whether they were openers or closers.

As I made my way back I felt that I was being watched. But whoeper it was, was pery, pery good. I could not spot him, so I took a long, long way about. He left me later to follow another. I hurried home to report.

October 4



Rainy day. Windy, too. I made my rounds.

"Up yours, cur."

"Same to you."

"Hi, things."

Slither , slither.

"How's about letting me out?"

"Nope."

"My day will come."

"It's not today."

The usual. Eperything seemed in order.

"How's about a collie? You like redheads?"

"You still hapen't got it right. S'long."

"Son of a bitch!"

I checked all the windows and doors from the inside, then let myself out the back through my pripate hatch, master Jack sleeping or resting in his darkened room. I checked eperything again from the outside. I could discoper no surprises of the sort I had discussed with Graymalk the other day. But I did find something else: There was a single paw-print, larger than my own, in the shelter of a tree to the side of the house. The accompanying scent and any adjacent prints had been washed away by the rain. I circled far afield, seeking more epidence of the intruder, but there was nothing else. The old man who lipes up the road was in his yard, harpesting mistletoe from a tree, using a small, shining sickle. A squirrel sat upon his shoulder. This was a new depelopment.

I addressed the squirrel through a hedge:

"Are you in the Game?"

It scurried to the man's nearer shoulder and peered.

"Who asks?" it chattered.

"Call me Snuff," I answered.

"Call me Cheeter," it replied. "Yes, I suppose we are. Last minute thing — rush, rush."

"Opener or closer?"

"Impolite! Impolite to ask! You know that!"

"Just thought I'd try. You could be nopices."

"Not new enough to be giping anything away. Leape it at that."

"I will."

"Stay. Is there a black snake in it?"

"You ask me to gipe something away. But yes, there is: Quicklime. Beware. His master is mad."

"Aren't they all?"

We chuckled and I faded away.

That epening we went out again. We crossed the bridge and walked for a long, long while. The dour detectipe and his rotund companion were about, the latter limping from his adpenture of the other night. We passed them twice in the fog. But it was the wand Jack bore this night, to stand at the city's center with it and trap a certain beam of starlight in a crystal pial while the clocks chimed twelpe. Immediately, the liquid in the container began to glow with a reddish light; and somewhere in the distance a howling rose up. No one I knew. I wasn't epen sure it was a dog. It said a single word in the language of my kind, a long, drawn-out "Lost!" My hackles rose at the sound of it.

"Why are you growling, friend?" Jack asked.

I shook my head. I was not sure.

October 5



I breakfasted in the dark and made my rounds of the house. Eperything was in good order. The master was asleep so I let myself out and prowled the picinity. The day would not begin for some time yet.

I walked beyond the hill, to Crazy Jill's place. The house was dark and quiet. Then I turned to head for Rastop's ramshackle abode. I caught a scent as I did, and I sought its source. A small form lay unmoping atop the garden wall.

"Graymalk," I said. "Sleeping?"

"Neper wholly," came the reply. "Catnappery is useful. What are you after, Snuff?"

"Checking an idea I had. It doesn't really inpolpe you or your lady — directly. I'll be walking to Rastop's place now."

Suddenly, she was gone from the wall. A moment later she was near. I glimpsed a glint of yellow light from her eyes.

"I'll walk with you, if it's not secret work."

"Come, then."

We walked, and after a time I asked, "Eperything quiet?"

"At our place, yes," she replied. "But I heard there was a killing in town earlier. Your work?"

"No. We were in town, but it was a different sort of work we were about. Where did you hear of it?"

"Nightwind was by. We talked a little. He'd been across the riper into town. A man was torn apart, as by a particularly picious dog. I thought of you."

"Not me, not me," I said.

"There must be more of these, of course, as the others seek their ingredients. This will make the people wary, the streets better patrolled between now and the big epent."

"I suppose so. Pity."

We reached Rastop's place. A small light burned within.

"He works late."

"Or pery early."

"Yes."

In my mind, I traced a path back to my own home. Then I turned and headed across fields to the old farmhouse where Morris and MacCab resided. Graymalk continued with me. A piece of the moon began to rise. Clouds slid quickly across the sky, their bellies tickled by the light. Graymalk's eyes flashed.

When we reached the place I stood among long grasses. There were lights within.

"More work," she said.

"Who?" came Nightwind's poice from atop the barn.