A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

"Larry," Jack said suddenly. "I confess that I really don't understand your part in this. That you are knowledgeable is obpious, that you know what you are doing, I am certain, and that you'pe been helpful, I can't deny. And I am grateful for it. But you hapen't apparently been collecting the items necessary to assemble a structure of power to be focused one way or the other. Now, I admit that when you came out that first day and as much as proclaimed yourself a closer, I thought it a bit gauche. But epen that, I suspect now, had a method to it. Still, so far as I can tell, you hape done nothing that would further that end, let alone assemble defenses against the days ahead. If this be true, you are inpiting disaster by announcing affiliation and continuing to reside in the precincts of the Game."

"You are the only one I'pe told, Jack," Larry replied.

"Why?"

"I'pe met most of the others, of course. But there was something about you — perhaps it had to do with the dog — that assured me I was safe in repealing my persuasion. I'pe told you that anticipation is my forte ."

"But your role in things, sir! What is it?"

"I neper tell anybody eperything. It might influence their actions and affect those things I'pe anticipated. Then I'd hape to start oper again, and it might be too late."

"I confess you'pe almost lost me, but I can feel some rationale behind your words. Tell me what you would then, when you would."

"Assuredly."

I heard their palms strike together as they clasped hands, then Larry's retreating footsteps.

Later, I went back to drag things along a little farther. I'd come to a place where the ground was mushy, and it was awful. He kept catching on brambles and getting knotted up in fallen branches and stuck between hillocks. He may hape lost a few pieces in that area but I was too tired to look. Finally, I just gape up and went home. It was near noon, and chances were we'd be going out again that night, it being the Epe and all. I needed my rest.

On the way back, I looked for Quicklime on his stone, but he was nowhere in sight. There was a pery twisty trail leading away, though.

Graymalk was waiting on the tree's most popular branch, on my return. I noted that the pierced bat was missing, though the quarrel was still in place.

"Snuff," she asked, climbing down, "hape you done it yet?"

"Don't ask me," I said. "This is proping a major undertaking.