The woman had risen to her feet, swaying slightly, and had begun to disrobe.
“You’ve proved your point,” I said to Larry, memorizing the faces of the parishioners, whom I suspected to be the crossbow crew as well.
“Then let us take a hint and come away,” he said.
I followed him from the vestry, and we let ourselves out the way we had come in. We made our way slowly back to the crossroads.
“So he’s involved,” I said after a time.
“It’s _his_ status I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Yes?”
“I know that a certain geometry prevails in these matters, but I’ve never learned it fully,” he said. “I do know, though, that it involves the placement of each player’s residence.”
“True. Oh. I see what you’re getting at.”
“Yes. How does his presence affect the pattern? Do you know how to figure these things, Snuff?”
“I do. I’ve been walking lines for some time. Where does he actually live?”
“That cottage behind the church is the vicarage.”
“Okay. Close enough. I’m going to have to do a lot more calculating now.”
“I need to know the center ground, the place of manifestation, Snuff.”
“I’d guessed that, Larry, and I’ll tell you when I figure it. Mind telling me your plans? I’ve a feeling they’re special.”
“Sorry.”
“That makes you a part of my problem then, you know.”
“How so?”
“If I don’t know what you’re up to, I don’t know whether to count you as a player, whether or not to include your place in the diagram.”
“I see.”
He halted, there at the crossroads.
“Could you do it both ways, with me and without me, and let me know the results?”
“As well as both ways on the vicarage? That’d be damned complicated, having to work it both ways, twice. Why are you afraid to tell me? You’ve as much as said you’re a closer. All right. So am I. You happy now? Your secret’s safe. We’re in this together.”
“That’s not it, Snuff,” he said. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know. I’m an anticipator. I know certain things about the future, and I anticipate being at the center when the moon is full. And yes, I’m on your side. But I’ll also be out of my mind that night. I still haven’t worked out the formula for bringing it through a moon-change intact. I’m not sure I should even be categorized as a player. But then, I’m not sure I shouldn’t. I’m just too much of a wild card.”
I threw back my head and howled. Sometimes it’s the best thing to do.
I went home, made my rounds, thought a lot, and slept. Earlier today, I encountered Graymalk as I paced the neighborhood and calculated.
“Hi, cat,” I said.
“Hi, dog. What’s the status on your disposal project?”
“Finished. Done. Complete. All floated away. Last night.”
“Admirable. There were times when I thought they’d find it before you got there.”
“Me, too.”
“We have to be careful what we talk about now.”
“Or even how we phrase things. But we’re adults and we’re reasonably intelligent and we both know the score. So, how’s it going?”
“Not real well.”
“Math problems?”
“I shouldn’t say.”
“It’s all right. Everybody’s got ’em just now.”
“Do you know that? Or are you guessing?”
“It couldn’t be any other way, believe me.”
She stared at me.
“I do believe you. What I’d like to know is how you can be so sure?”
“That’s the part I can’t tell you, I’m afraid.”
“I understand,” she said. “But let’s not stop talking just because we’re into the second phase.”
“Agreed. I think that would be a mistake.”
“So, how’s it going?”
“Not real well.”
“Math problems or identity problems?”
“You’re sharp. Both.”
“If you solve the problem of whether Talbot’s really a player, I’ll trade you something for it.”
“What?”
“Can’t say, of course. But it could be useful if things get rough.”
“I’m inclined to take you up on it, but I haven’t an answer yet.”
“That gives me something right there, small, but something. So, for whatever it’s worth, here’s a negative: It can’t be the center of a road. The mistress has researched it and found good metaphysical reasons why not.”