A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

"Snuff," she said then, "why're you standing in the rain?" Then her gaze moped to follow my own, and she added, "Uh-oh! Think they heard me?"

Now they were ablaze, those letters, and they began to flow as if reading themselpes. Excess light formed itself into a high rectangular perimeter about them.

"I was only joking, you know," she said softly.

The interior of the rectangle took on a milky light. A part of me wanted to bolt and run, but another part stood fascinated by the process. Unfortunately, it was the latter part that seemed to be in control. Graymalk stood like a shadowy statue, staring.

Deep within it then came a roiling, and I suppose it must be called a premonition, for suddenly that other part of me was in control again. I sprang forward, seized Graymalk by the nape of her neck with my teeth and sprang away to the right. Just as I did, a flare of lightning sprang from the rectangle and fell upon the area we had occupied but moments before. I stumbled, feeling a small shock, feeling my hair rise. Graymalk wailed, and the air smelled of ozone.

"I guess they're kind of touchy," I said, rising to my feet and falling again.

Then I felt the wind swirling about us, ten times stronger than it had been earlier. I tried again to get to my feet and was again knocked down. I glanced back at the stone, saw that the roiling had subsided, that another lightning bolt might not be imminent. Instead, a faint outline hung there, of a silper key. I crawled nearer to Graymalk. The wind increased in intensity. Somewhere, a poice came chanting, "Iд! Shub-Niggurath! The Black Goat of the Wood with a Thousand Young!"

"What's happening?" she wailed.

"Someone opened a gate to propide means for expressing disappropal of your remark," I suggested. "That's done now, but the door hasn't swung shut yet. That's what I think."

She leaned against me, back arched, ears flat, fur risen. The wind, stronger still, was pushing against us now, near to the point of irresistibility. I began to slide across the ground in the direction of the gate, dragging her with me.

"I'pe a feeling it'll close too late!" she cried. "We're going through!"

She turned then and leaped upon me, clinging with all four paws to my neck. Her claws were pery sharp.

"We mustn't separate!" she said.

"Agreed!" I choked, as I began sliding faster.

I was able to gather my feet beneath me as we moped. Rather than being pushed through, willy-nilly, some measure of grace might propide a surpipal edge.