“So it is.”
“Neat trick, that. How’d you manage it?”
“I can do it whenever I choose, with certain botanical aids, and retain full rationality, save when the moon is full. It’s only involuntary then, with certain unfortunate accompaniments.”
“So I understand. Like, berserk.”
“_Wulfsark_,” he said. “Yes.”
“So why are you here?”
“I tracked you. Ordinarily, this is my favorite time of month, without a trace of moon to disturb me. But I forsook this to do some investigating. Then it became necessary that I speak with you. So I came looking. What are you doing with the body, anyway?”
“I was trying to get it to the river, where I want to drop it in. Someone had left it near our place, and I was afraid Jack would be suspected.”
“I’ll give you a ha… I’ll help.”
With that, he seized it by a shoulder and began walking backwards. No bracing himself and tugging, the way I’d had to manage it. He just kept walking, picking up speed, even. I didn’t see any way I could help. I’d just slow him down if I grabbed hold anywhere. I trotted along beside and watched.
An hour or so later we stood on the riverbank and watched the current bear the corpse away.
“I can’t tell you how happy this makes me,” I said.
“You just did,” he said. “Let’s head back.”
We returned, but when he reached my place he kept going.
“Where are we headed?” I finally asked, when he’d turned left at the second crossroad.
“I’d said I went looking for you because I wanted to speak with you. There is something I need to show you first. If my timing is right, it’s about midnight now.”
“I’d guess it’s close.”
We approached the local church. There was a very dim light from within.
“The front will probably be locked,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to go in that way, though.”
“We’re going in?”
“That’s my intention.”
“Have you been in it before?”
“Yes. I know my way around. We’ll go in the rear entrance if no one’s about, pass through a small vestibule, turn left for a few paces, then right up a little hallway. We can get into the vestry from there, if it’s clear.”
“And then?”
“If we position ourselves properly, we get a view.”
“Of what?”
“I’m curious myself. Let’s find out.”
We made our way around to the back of the building and listened. Determining that there was no one near on the other side, Larry rose up onto his hind legs, seeming far more graceful in that position than I could be. But then, he’d had a lot more practice. He seized the doorknob between his forepaws, squeezed, twisted, and pulled slowly.
It opened and we entered. He closed the door just as quietly behind us. We followed the route he had described, and, coming into the vestry, we were able to position ourselves to obtain the view he had referred to.
There was a service in progress.
Only a few people, one woman, the rest of them men, were present, occupying the front pews. The vicar stood before the altar, which I noted to be draped in black, and was reading to his congregation. He squinted through his square spectacles, as the flickering light was not very good, all of it coming from only a few black candles. Larry pointed out that the cross was upside-down, but I’d already noticed this myself.
“Do you know what that means?” he asked softly.
“Religious distress signal?” I said.
“Listen to what he’s saying.”
So I did.
“‘. . . Nyarlathotep,'” he read, “‘cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. He is like a many-legged goat, and he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice, horned in glory. Nyarlathotep spake, and he said, “Rise up, my dark one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is nigh and the cold rains fall. The flowers have died upon the earth, and the singing of birds is done. The turtle lies slain. The fig tree withers, as do the grapes. Arise, my dark one, and come away. . . .”‘”