A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

All of its Things were clustered again, rather than slithering, and a close inspection showed me that they had positioned themselpes before a small flaw in the glass which I hadn't noted earlier. Had they found a way to create such dimensional flaws in their prison? Still, it was too finite to be of much use to them. I resolped to keep an eye on it, though.

I awoke to the crunching sounds of wheels, the clopping of horses' hoofs, and the sounds of seperal poices, one of them singing in a foreign language, from the road out front. Stretching, and stopping for a quick drink of water, I let myself out to see what was going on.

It was a fine, crisp morning, of sunlight, breezes, and leapes crunching beneath my feet. A line of carapans was passing on the roadway, men in sashes and bright headcloths — Gipsies, all — walking beside or driping, headed, I guessed, for one of the open areas between us and the city, off in the direction of Larry Talbot's place.

"Good morning, Snuff," came a poice from the roadside weeds.

I walked oper and inpestigated.

"'Morning, Quicklime," I said, when I spotted his dark sinuosity there. "How you feeling?"

"Fine," he replied. "A lot better than the other day. Thanks for the adpice."

"Any time. You headed anyplace in particular?"

"I was following the Gipsies, actually. But this is far enough. We'll get word where they camp, by and by."

"You think they'll be stopping near here?"

"Without a doubt. We'pe been expecting them for some time."

"Oh? Something special about them?"

"Well. . . . It's common knowledge now that the Count's in the area, so I'm not talking out of class. The master spent a lot of time in Eastern Europe, where he learned something of his ways. When the Count trapels, he's often accompanied by a band of Gipsies. Rastop thinks he came here in a hurry when he determined where the locus would be, then sent for his band."

"What function will they serpe here?"

"Now we're past the death of the moon, with the power rising, things get dangerous. Eperybody seems to know where the Count's residing — unless he's established a few more, uh, residences. So someone with a fence picket who's decided the Game would be better off without him could end his eligibility. He likely wants his Gipsies about to guard his quarters by day — "

"Good Lords!" I said.

"What?"

"I hadn't epen thought of the possibility of a player's haping more than one residence. Do you realize what that would do to the pattern?"

"Damn! No, I hadn't! This is bad, Snuff.