An Affair Of Sorcerers

'All right, Mary,' I said. 'Thank you.'

After hanging up, I sagged against the side of the telephone booth and tried to think. Mad had lied to me about not being in touch with Bobby Weiss, and I wondered why. I was probably the last person in the world she'd want to talk to at the moment, regardless of the reason. On the other hand, Kathy Marlowe was suffering from something a lot worse than nervous collapse, and I had absolutely no time to be considerate.

I shook off my chill, put another dime in the slot and called the Medical Center. The reception desk informed me that Madeline Jones was seeing visitors, and gave me her room number. My watch read six fifteen, which left me an hour and forty-five minutes before visiting hours were over. I didn't feel strong enough to walk out the door, but I managed. On the way out I caught a reflected glimpse of myself in a wall of polished marble, and immediately understood why everyone was asking about my health; if not for the fact that I was the only dwarf in the lobby, I wouldn't have recognized myself. I was going to have to do something about my light-headedness; nausea or no, I had to try to eat something and hope that it stayed down.

There was a good seafood restaurant down the block. I went in and immediately made my way to the men's room in the back. I filled the washbasin with cold water and used my good hand to splash my face and neck. I began to feel better. Now all I had to do was manage to keep something in my stomach.

I sat at a corner table, ordered some fish chowder and broiled shrimp. The food tasted good; I probably could have eaten more, but I thought it was a good idea to wait and see how that settled. I finished off with a cup of black coffee, then went out into the street and hailed a cab; I didn't think I could handle a car.

Fifteen minutes later I was at the Medical Center, visitor's card in hand, on my way up to Madeline's room on the second floor. It occurred to me that I was spending so much time at the hospital it would save time if I simply opened up an office in the basement.

Madeline was propped up in the bed, reading a magazine. She looked pale and drawn-older. She was wearing a quilted pink robe with a white-and-pink floral design. The robe looked strange on her, dowdy and unbecoming. I was used to the more severe, tailored look that shaved years off her. There was a vase filled with yellow roses on the night table next to her bed.

Madeline glanced up as I entered. 'Mongo!' she cried, startled.

I went over to the side of the bed and kissed her on the cheek. 'Hello, babe. How you doing?'

She smiled shyly, self-consciously patted her silver hair, which was hanging loose around her shoulders. Her blue eyes looked watery and tired. 'Oh, I feel so silly being here.'

'What's the matter, if it's not impolite to ask?'

'Just nervous exhaustion,' Madeline said, a slight tremor in her voice. 'Things. . just started to catch up with me. I. . well, I just passed out in the lab. God, I do feel silly. I'll be out tomorrow.'

'To rest, I trust.'

She nodded. For the first time, she looked directly into my eyes. 'You look like you need a-' She suddenly gasped and put a hand to her mouth. 'The little girl! How is the little girl?'

'She's still dying, Mad; I'm still working on it, and I'm still short on time. Now it may be down to a matter of hours-or even minutes. At the moment, I'm scraping the bottom of the miracle barrel with a psychic healer who's trying to keep her alive long enough for someone to find out what's wrong with her.'

'You shouldn't have taken the time to come and see me,' she said hoarsely.

I took a deep breath and started to reach inside my jacket pocket for the horoscope Jake had given me. Mad suddenly reached out and grasped my hand. ''What happened to your thumb?'

'It was gnawed on by a rabid bat.'

Mad's eyes widened. 'You're joking!'

'Nope. It just happened to be winging its way around my bedroom in the middle of the night. I have a strong suspicion that it didn't mosey in by itself. I don't suppose any of your mysterious friends keep rabid bats around the house, do they?'

Madeline looked at me a long time. I watched in horrified fascination as her face suddenly fell apart and she started to giggle in a high-pitched, girlish voice that frightened me. Then, without warning, the giggles abruptly turned to racking sobs. She turned her face away and buried it in the pillow. Uncertain of what to do, I tentatively reached out and touched her shoulder. Gradually her sobbing eased. She groped toward her nightstand and found a Kleenex. She wiped her eyes, then blew her nose.

'I'm sorry, Mongo,' Mad said in a harsh, strained voice. 'I guess you can see why I'm here.'

'Hey, babe, I'm sorry,' I said, meaning it. 'I shouldn't be here asking you questions. I wouldn't be bothering you if I wasn't running out of time.'

'I know,' she said quietly. 'And your question was perfectly reasonable. For the past few years I have been spending a lot of time with some very strange people. It's-' She started to sob again, but quickly brought herself under control. 'It can be so evil.'

'Is that why you're here, Mad? Did this occult business finally get to you?'

I thought she took a long time to answer. Finally she lifted her eyes again and looked directly into mine. 'I don't know, Mongo; I honestly don't know. I am a scientist, and most of my scientific colleagues consider-or would consider, if they knew about it-my interest in the occult idiotic. After a while, I suppose, the internal pressure starts to build. You begin to doubt, to wonder just what it is you're doing. You start thinking that maybe it is all superstition, and that you're a fool.'

It was time. I cleared my throat, said, 'You seem to have been right on target with at least one of your astrology clients.'

Something like a shadow muddied the surface of her pale blue eyes. 'What do you mean?' Mad asked breathlessly.

I removed the horoscope from my pocket and handed it to her. Mad glanced at the paper and grew even paler. She slowly crushed the paper in her fist and screwed her eyes shut. Tears oozed from beneath her lids, slowly trickled down her cheeks like tiny, transparent slugs. 'Where did you get this?'

'Bobby's agent,' I said, touching her arm again. 'Believe me, Mad; I wouldn't be asking you about this if it weren't for the child.'

Madeline slowly opened her eyes and stared at me. 'What does this horoscope have to do with the little girl?' she asked in a strangled whisper.

'Bobby's dead from an overdose of drugs. I found him this morning. He'd been going downhill for months, and it very much looks like he was involved with Esobus. He was definitely into witchcraft, and he had a book of shadows that mentioned Esobus' name. Bobby may have killed himself, but I'm certain someone gave him a good push to get started.'

Madeline swallowed hard. 'And, of course, you want to know why I lied to you about not being in contact with Bobby since he left the university.' It wasn't a question.

'I want to know anything you can tell me-anything you may have left out the last time we talked that might lead me to Esobus. If you're frightened, I understand; I've seen enough of the wreckage Esobus leaves in his wake to understand why people are afraid of him. I'll keep anything you tell me in absolute confidence.'

She bit her lower lip and slowly shook her head. 'I really don't know any more than I've already told you, Mongo. I was ashamed to tell you about. . this. I knew what had been happening to Bobby since I cast that horoscope. I guess I was afraid you'd think. . I was the one who'd given him a push. I just wasn't thinking clearly.'

I grunted noncommittally. 'It looks like Bobby created a self-fulfilling prophecy from that piece of paper you gave him.'

Madeline shook her head again, this time more vehemently. 'No, Mongo. The trend was there right from the beginning, exactly as I interpreted it. Please believe me; I saw how his life was about to change, and I hoped the horoscope would serve as a warning to alter his living patterns.' She passed a trembling hand over her eyes. 'Bobby didn't take it seriously.'

'Can you interpret that horoscope for me exactly as you did for him?'

Madeline hesitated, then finally nodded. She slowly smoothed out the crumpled paper. 'The inner circle is the natal horoscope,' she said wearily. 'It represents the positions of the sun, moon and planets at the time of Bobby's birth. It shows a strong talent in art or music, with the talent used in a superficial, popular vein. The chart indicates considerable success.'