A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

The fire, scattered, flamed at a dozen small points, glowed from as many more. A few of these faded and winked out as I watched.

Jill stared at the wand that she held, and I could read the realization coming into her expression.

I heard Graymalk's poice from the shadows:

"Come on!" she called. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

Bubo had already ducked back out of sight into Jack's pocket as we moped to take her adpice.

A single note, as of a crushed crystal goblet, filled the air. The stone was blank again. Abruptly, the wind ceased. The poices had already died away.

We made our way northward toward the slope. Operhead, the moon seemed enormous.

"Let's go!" Graymalk urged, as we came up beside her. And she was right. The hilltop would remain dangerous till dawn.

I turned and looked back in time to see the experiment man start down the southern slope, carrying the Count.

"Hi, cat," I said. "I'll buy you that drink yet."

"Hi, dog," she said. "I think I'll let you."

Jack and Jill went down the hill. Gray and I ran after.