Next, I oriented myself as best I could and attempted to follow a straight line from Larry’s place to the Count’s crypt. I came to the ruined church first, and I paused there, trying to visualize the rest of the pattern. By then, a faint lightening had begun in the east.
As I lay puzzling, a large bat, much bigger than Needle, swooped in from the north, passing behind a big tree. It did not emerge on the tree’s other side, however. Instead, I heard the softest of footfalls, and a dark-suited man in a black cloak stepped out from behind the tree.
I stared. His head snapped in my direction, and he spoke: “Who is there?”
Suddenly, I felt very exposed. There was only one role I could think to play.
Uttering an idiot series of yips, I rushed forward, wagging my tail furiously, and threw myself on the ground before him, rolling about like some attention-starved stray.
His bright lips twitched into a brief, small smile. Then he leaned forward and scratched me behind the ears.
“Good dog,” he said, in slow, guttural tones.
Then he patted my head, straightened, and walked off toward the crypt. He halted when he reached it. One moment he was standing there, the next moment he was gone.
I decided it was time to get gone myself. His touch had been very cold.