“Yes. Your calculations would be unaffected.”
“Good. But this I don’t understand, the Count killed Owen because the vicar killed Rastov. Owen was an opener. Does that reflect a particular sympathy on the part of the Count? Or was he simply out to check the vicar and keep the violence from spreading?”
“I don’t know. Nothing was said on the matter.”
I growled softly.
“This is a complicated one,” I said.
“Agreed. Now you know everything I do.”
“Thanks. Want to come with me?”
“No. I’m really out of the Game. Good luck.”
“‘Luck, Quick.”
I heard him slither off.
It rained a little that afternoon, and stopped shortly after sunset. I went outside to look for the moon, and Bubo came with me. The clouds still veiled her, however, and all we could see was the big area of brightness she shed in the east. The wind blew chill.
“So this is it,” Bubo said. “By morning it will all be decided.”
“Yes.”
“I wish I could have been playing all along.”
“A wish on the moon,” I said. “It may be true. You have been playing, in a way. You’ve traded information, you’ve watched things develop, same as the rest of us.”
“Yes, but I didn’t really _do_ important things like the rest of you.”
“It’s mainly the little things, all added up, that give us the final picture, that make the difference.”
“I suppose so,” he said. “Yes, it was fun. Do you think, Could I possibly come with? I’d like to see it happen, however it goes.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We couldn’t be responsible for a civilian, too. I think it’s going to be a rough one.”
“I understand,” he replied. “I’d guessed you’d say that, but I had to ask.”
I left him there after a time, watching the sky. The moon was still hidden.
And so. . . .
We left before midnight, of course, Jack and I, he in a warm coat and carrying a satchel containing the equipment. Under his other arm, he bore a few small logs for the fire. We left without bothering to lock the door.
The sky was beginning to clear overhead, though the moon was still masked. There was sufficient light just from its glow-through, however, to show our way clearly. There was a chill, damp breeze at our backs.
Soon, Dog’s Nest was before us, and Jack decided we should circle it and mount its eastern slope.
We did that, and as we came in sight of the top a small glow was already apparent off in the circle toward the stone with the inscription. Moving nearer, we saw that Vicar Roberts and Morris and MacCab were tending a small fire they had obviously just gotten going, nursing it to achieve greater compass. The vicar’s ear was unbandaged now, and light showed through two high perforations in it. The heap of kindling was much larger than when Graymalk and I had been by earlier.
The banefire is a necessary part of our business. It goes all the way back into the misty vastness of our practices. Both sides require it, so in this sense it is a neutral instrument. After midnight, it comes to burn in more than one world, and we may add to it those things which enhance our personal strengths and serve our ends. It attracts otherworldly beings sympathetic to both sides, as well as neutral spirits who may be swayed by the course of the action. Voices and sights may pass through it, and it serves as a secondary, supportive point of manifestation to whatever the opening or closing object may be. Customarily, we all bring something to feed it, and it interacts with all of us throughout the ritual. I had urinated on one of our sticks, for example, several days earlier. There are times when players have been attacked by its flames; and I can recall an instance when one was defended by a sudden wall of fire it issued. It is also good for disposing of evidence. It comes in handy on particularly cold nights, too.
“Good evening,” Jack said as we approached, and he added his contribution to the woodpile.