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alone, even helped each other sometimes. So I decided to learn as much about your Game as I could
and figure out how I could pass for one of you. I realized pretty quickly that you all had pretty weird
masters and mistresses. Then I knew that I could do it. After all, I'd been hanging around the Good
Doctor's place already, for the leftovers from his work. So I let on that he was in the Game and that I
worked for him. Sure enough, I got respect and decent treatment from the rest of you. It made life a lot
easier. What a tragedy, the fire. It'll be rough spending winter in the barn. But rats are adaptable. We...
"Be still," she said again, and he obeyed. "Snuff, do you realize what this means?"
"Yes," I said. "There was no secret player. What it was, was that I had one player too many in my
calculations. The Good Doctor must just have come here seeking a little privacy for his work."
". . . And that explains why the divinations concerning him were always ambiguous."
"Of course. I'll have to do some new figuring, soon. Thank you, Bubo. You've just helped me quite a
bit."
Graymalk moved away from the crate and Bubo peered out.
"You mean I can go?" he said.
I was feeling generous, happy even, at the final piece for my puzzle. And he looked kind of pathetic.
"Or you can come with us, if you like," I said. "You don't have to live in the barn. You can stay at my
place. It's warm and there's plenty to eat."
"You really mean that?"
"Sure. You've been a help."
"Of course you do live near a cat. . . ."
Graymalk made her laughing sound.
"You gave us professional help," she said. "I'll leave you on my professional courtesy list."
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"All right, I'll do it," he told me.
He emerged and we headed back.
October 28
I knew, but of course I had to check it out by laying it on the terrain. I strolled by most of the places I
had visited yesterday, wondering who else might have figured it out yet. I saw the vicar and he saw me,
from a distance, after Tekela'd brought her notice of me to his attention, in passing. He was just carrying
a carton into the vicarage from a wagon, and he stopped to glare. He was still wearing the bandage on
his ear. The Great Detective Mrs. Enderby happened to be in a tree in her yard with a pair of binoculars
when I passed, and called out to me.
"Snuff, please come here!"
I kept going.
The sun was shining intermittently through masses of clouds. Yet more leaves, fallen and falling, were
scudding in the breezes. I headed south.
Bubo had set up housekeeping in our basement, though he wandered the house with our leave and ate
with me in the kitchen.
"What became of the Things in the Mirror? Or to the mirror, for that matter?" he'd asked.
So I told him the story of the attack, following our trip to town. Which led into the story of our trip to
town.
"Wouldn't put it past the vicar," he said. "He's taken many a shot at me with that crossbow of his, and
I never did anything to him, except hunt through his dustbin on occasion. Is that cause to put an arrow in
a fellow? I hope he fudges the final business and you fellows blow him to oblivion."
"Just how much do you know about the Game, anyway?" I asked.
"I've heard a lot. I've seen a lot. Everybody talked freely because they assumed I was a part of it.
After a time, I almost got to feeling I was," he reflected. "I know so much about it."
And he proceeded to tell me the story of how a number of the proper people are attracted to the
proper place in the proper year on a night in the lonesome October when the moon shines full on
Halloween and the way may be opened for the return of the Elder Gods to Earth, and of how some of
these people would assist in the opening of the way for them while others would strive to keep the way
closed. For ages, the closers have won, often just barely, and there were stories of a shadowy man,
half-mad, a killer, a wanderer, and his dog, who always showed up to attempt the closing. Some said
that he was Cain himself, doomed to walk the Earth, marked; others said he'd a pact with one of the
Elders who secretly wished to thwart the others; none really knew. And the people would acquire certain
tools and other objects of power, meet together at the designated spot and attempt to work their wills.
The winners walked away, the losers suffered for their presumption by a reaction from the cosmic
principles involved in the attempt. Then he named the players and their tools, adding an awareness of the
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calculation, of divinations, of magical attacks and defenses.
"Bubo," I said, "you have impressed me as few have impressed me, learning all that without giving
yourself away."
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