An Affair Of Sorcerers

Again she swallowed hard. I poured her a glass of water from a covered carafe on the nightstand. She drank it down, smiled shyly. Her eyes seemed clearer. 'The outer circle is a synthesis,' she continued in a stronger voice. 'It's the horoscope projected up to the time when Bobby came to see me, and extrapolated into the future. Saturn- an evil, tearing influence-is in the worst possible conjunction with the other planets. There's a bad grouping in Scorpio-the sign of the occult. And there are a number of other afflictions indicated, including a bad conjunction in what we call the 'house of the secret enemy.' Bobby had reached a critical, very dangerous crossroads in his life. That's what … I told him.'

She took a deep, shuddering breath, then carefully folded the paper into a small square and dropped it on the nightstand. 'It was accurate,' she whispered. 'Deadly accurate.'

'Mad,' I asked quietly, 'how did Bobby find out that you were an astrologer?' 'John Krowl recommended me to him. Bobby had become one of John's clients.'

'How long had Bobby known Krowl before he came to you?'

'I don't know,' Madeline said softly.

'Maybe Krowl was the 'secret enemy' you saw in Bobby's horoscope.'

'Maybe,' she said, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

'What do you think?'

She rolled her eyes toward me without turning her head. 'Why do you ask me that, Mongo?'

'Could Krowl be a member of Esobus' coven?'

'I'd have no way of knowing the answer to that question. If he were a member, he'd never even drop a hint to an outsider.'

'What about Bobby? Could he have been a member?'

Mad shook her head. 'That would be impossible. If there is such a supercoven, all of the members would be ceremonial magicians-like Esobus.'

'So much for your Wizard of Oz theory, Mad. Esobus definitely exists.'

'The Wizard of Oz is dead,' she said in a dry, quaking voice.

There didn't seem any more to be gained by talking to Madeline. In fact, it appeared I'd accomplished nothing but managing to further upset a sick friend. 'I'm sorry I bothered you, babe,' I said, placing a yellow rose from the vase on the pillow next to her head.

'Please don't apologize, Mongo,' she said, biting her lower lip, obviously fighting back tears. 'I do understand. The child is here, isn't she?'

'Two floors above us.'

'You'll … let me know what happens with her, won't you?'

'Yes, babe. I'll be in touch. Feel better.' I kissed her and left the room.

As soon as I turned down the corridor, I knew I was in trouble. Searing pain swept around inside my stomach like sloshing waves of acid. My vision blurred, and a silent scream of terror wriggled free from a primitive part of my brain and filled my head with banshee wailing; Joshua had told me that that was how it would begin.

But another part of me kept functioning in the psychic din; at this point, another day probably wouldn't make much difference one way or another. If I'd gone over the edge and now had to die, I wanted to do it on my feet, at full gallop. I knew I was going to faint, and I didn't want to do it in the middle of the corridor. I'd end up with a team of doctors and nurses poking at me, and I couldn't afford the time.

I staggered blindly down the hall, running my hands against the wall until I felt a knob. By squinting, I could read Utility Room on a plate just above my head. I opened the door; in the light from the corridor I could just make out a pile of clean towels stacked up just inside the doorway. I closed the door, sprawled on the towels and promptly passed out.

Chapter 14

I woke up groggy and disoriented, and it took me almost a full minute to figure out I was in a hospital bed. The first thing I felt was an immense, warm surge of relief to find that I was seeing 20/20, and wasn't drooling or belting out the Top Ten to imaginary moons. I sat up with a start and looked at my watch. It was eleven o'clock; I'd been asleep for fifteen hours.

I got quickly out of bed. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I steadied myself by holding on to the metal headboard of the bed until it passed. I was in my shorts; my clothes were nowhere to be seen, and the wardrobe in the room was empty. I cursed softly, marched out of the room and down the corridor toward the nurses' station. A group of patients walking in the hallway stopped and stared at the angry dwarf in his Jockey shorts; they looked at one another, then broke into laughter. The reaction of the nurse on desk duty was quite different.

'Dr. Freder-'

'Kathy Marlowe,' I said quickly, forcing the words out through lips that felt like stiff leather. 'The girl in-'

'Kathy's still alive, sir,' the nurse said, smiling.

I sighed, pressed my face into my hands. 'Where are my clothes, nurse?'

'Dr. Greene left strict-'

'Nurse!' I shouted, taking my hands away from my face and slamming them against the desk. 'I want my fucking clothes! Am I getting through?!'

The woman jerked her head back as though I'd hit her, sniffed through her thin, aquiline nose. 'Dr. Greene has your clothes,' she said archly. 'He left specific instructions to be called as soon as you woke up.'

'Well, it looks like I'm awake, so you call him wherever he is and tell him to get his ass over here. Got it? Otherwise, I'm going to run out in the street like this, and I'm going to sue! Sue!'

She sniffed again as she reached for the telephone in front of her. 'I'm sure he'll be right with you, Dr. Frederickson. Perhaps you'd prefer to wait for him in your room.' She surprised me by winking. 'I wouldn't want you to catch cold.'

I wheeled and marched back to my room, where I sat down on the edge of the bed and fumed. However, the news that Kathy was still alive made it difficult to stay angry. Relief and gratitude soon swept away my rage.

Greene arrived five minutes later. He was holding my folded clothes in one hand, a huge, familiar-looking hypodermic needle in the other. 'Kathy's still alive,' he said, tossing my clothes on the bed.

'I heard. How is she?'

'There's no improvement, but her condition has stabilized. Under the circumstances, I consider that a minor miracle.' He motioned me backward on the bed. 'Lie down, Mongo. The only reason I kept your clothes was to make sure you didn't run off without getting your injection. Remember: you need one of these every day. I want you back on the street, but I don't want you returning here through the Morgue entrance.'

I lay back, closed my eyes and grimaced as Joshua slid the needle into my abdomen. 'Don't you ever sleep?' I asked through the sick, yellow pain.

'I have a resident's room here.' He injected the serum, then slowly withdrew the needle. I fought off the impulse to vomit. 'Your brother was here asking about the girl,' he continued. 'I told him you were here. He didn't want to wake you up, but he wants you to call him.' He smiled thinly. 'I take it you didn't bother to tell him that you'd been bitten by a rabid bat.'

'Garth tends to worry about me.'

'I can see why.' He cleared his throat. 'Mrs. Marlowe's also very concerned. She'd like you to stop by her room before you leave.'

I tapped my watch by way of an answer. 'We're still on borrowed time, right?' I sat up on the edge of the bed and began dressing. 'How the hell did I end up in bed?'

'One of the nurses found you. Most of the hospital personnel know about Kathy-and you.' He almost smiled. 'You're on the verge of becoming a legend in your own time-at least, around here. The nurse called me, and I carried you here. You're considerably heavier than you look. I don't know why I didn't call an orderly; I think I may have strained my back.'

'I'm compact,' I grunted. 'I seem to detect a change in your normally inflexible attitude.'

The black doctor shrugged his frail shoulders. 'You've slept for fifteen hours, which is all I asked you to do in