polite requests and civilized debate.
To his surprise, in less than half a minute the door opened, and there
was Carver Hampton, looking bigger and more formidable than Jack
remembered him, not frowning as expected but smiling, not angry but
delighted.
Before Jack could speak, Hampton said, “You’re all right! Thank God for
that. Thank God. Come in. You don’t know how glad I am to see you.
Come in, come in.” There was a small foyer beyond the door, then a set
of stairs, and Jack went in, and Hampton closed the door but didn’t stop
talking. “My God, man, I’ve been worried half to death. Are you all
right? You look all right. Will you please, for God’s sake, tell me
you’re all right?”
“I’m okay,” Jack said. “Almost wasn’t. But there’s so much I have to
ask you, so much I-”
“Come upstairs,” Hampton said, leading the way.
“You’ve got to tell me what’s happened, all of it, every detail. It’s
been an eventful and momentous night; I know it; I sense it.”
Pulling off his snow-encrusted boots, following Hampton up the narrow
stairs, Jack said, “I should warn you-I’ve come here to demand your
help, and by God you’re going to give it to me, one way or the other.”
“Gladly, ” Hampton said, further surprising him.
“I’ll do whatever I possibly can; anything.”
At the top of the stairs, they came into a comfortablelooking,
well-furnished living room with a great many books on shelves along one
wall, an Oriental tapestry on the wall opposite the books, and a
beautiful Oriental carpet, predominantly beige and blue, occupying most
of the floor space. Four blown-glass table lamps in striking blues and
greens and yellows were placed with such skill that you were drawn by
their beauty no matter which way you were facing. There were also two
reading lamps, more functional in design, one by each of the big
armchairs. Both of those and all four of the blown-glass lamps were on.
However, their light didn’t fully illuminate every last corner of the
room, and in those areas where there otherwise might have been a few
thin shadows, there were clusters of burning candles, at least fifty of
them in all.
Hampton evidently saw that he was puzzled by the candles, for the big
man said, “Tonight there are two DARICFALL
kinds of darkness in this city, Lieutenant. First, there’s that
darkness which is merely the absence of light. And then there’s that
darkness which is the physical presence-the very manifestation-of the
ultimate, Satanic evil. That second and malignant form of darkness
feeds upon and cloaks itself in the first and more ordinary kind of
darkness, cleverly disguises itself. But it’s out there! Therefore, I
don’t wish to have shadows close to me this night, if I can avoid it,
for one never knows when an innocent patch of shade might be something
more than it appears.”
Before this investigation, even as excessively openminded as Jack had
always been, he wouldn’t have taken Carver Hampton’s warning seriously.
At best, he would have thought the man eccentric; at worst, a bit mad.
Now, he didn’t for a moment doubt the sincerity or the accuracy of the
Houngon’s statements. Unlike Hampton, Jack wasn’t afraid that the
shadows themselves would suddenly leap at him and clutch him with
insubstantial yet somehow deadly hands of darkness; however, after the
things he had seen tonight, he couldn’t rule out even that bizarre
possibility. Anyway, because of what might be hiding within the
shadows, he, too, preferred bright light.
“You look frozen,” Hampton said. “Give me your coat. I’ll hang it over
the radiator to dry. Your gloves, too. Then sit down, and I’ll bring
you some brandy.”
“I don’t have time for brandy,” Jack said, leaving his coat buttoned and
his gloves on. “I’ve got to find Lavelle. I-”
“To find and stop Lavdle,” Hampton said, “you’ve got to be properly
prepared. That’s going to take time.
Only a fool would go rushing back out into that storm with only a
half-baked idea of what to do and where to go. And you’re no fool,
Lieutenant. So give me your coat. I can hop you, but it’s going to