An Affair Of Sorcerers

'Harley Davidson must have found the curriculum fascinating. I understand he gave you all his money. When he was working, that must have amounted to a million dollars, or more.'

Krowl frowned. 'Who told you that?'

'It doesn't matter. It's true, isn't it?'

Krowl shoved his spectral, chalk-colored hands into the pockets of his smoking jacket and began to pace back and forth. 'Harley Davidson thought enough of our work to make a few sizable donations,' he said at last. 'But that's not unusual; a number of my clients have joined Mystic Eye and donated money. What of it?'

'I don't know, Krowl,' I said, trying unsuccessfully to look into his eyes. 'But I'll tell you the real reason I came here: I keep stumbling over victims who started out as hand casts on your wall.'

Krowl stiffened, quickly drew his smoked glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on. Now he looked at me. 'Get out of here, you little bastard!' he snarled. 'And don't come back! The next time you show up here, Jonathan will meet you at the door. You and I have nothing more to talk about. You seem to think that I have something to do with these people you're after!'

The smoked glasses resembled two huge insect eyes on his colorless face. 'I never said that,' I replied softly to the eyes.

'And I'll sue you if you do, Frederickson! I don't involve myself with witchcraft at all.'

'Maybe not, but I'm betting you know a lot of people who do. Did you talk to Esobus after I left here the other night?'

He laughed thinly, without humor. 'What are you talking about?' he snorted. 'Esobus is a fairy tale.'

'Bullshit. I'm betting that particular fairy tale is damn well upset right now. Somebody in his coven doesn't quite live up to the going standard of nastiness. The hospital received a tape recording explaining what was wrong with the child. Thanks to whoever sent it, the girl's going to live.'

I watched for a reaction; there was none. The black insect eyes simply stared back at me. Finally, Krowl said: 'I'm glad the child is out of danger, but I'm going to give you a warning. I have no idea who the people are that you're after, but there's no doubt that you're on a fishing expedition-and you're fishing in my home. This time you came close to making accusations: I resent that. I've told you I know nothing about this matter, but you don't believe me. Have it your way: If you think I'm involved, prove it. Otherwise, I advise you to stay away from here. And keep your mouth shut.' He paused, coughed dryly; it was a soft, slightly menacing sound. 'I'll have your license, Frederickson. Believe me; I have very powerful friends.'

I believed him, and I knew I'd probably made a mistake in coming to see him. I was on a fishing expedition, and Krowl didn't have to be a genius to know it. If he was involved with the coven, he was now definitely on notice that I was looking him over. The powerful friends he'd mentioned could easily chew me up and spit me out in the various regulatory agencies I was responsible to. I was going to have to back off until I could gather more evidence.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Krowl was totally ignorant of Esobus and his works, as Krowl claimed.

I doubted it. He'd never even bothered to ask what had been wrong with Kathy.

After a good night's sleep I rose at ten, feeling fairly decent. I ate a light breakfast and went over to the Medical Center for my shot. On the way it occurred to me that exactly one week before I'd been happily drumming away, planning to while away the rest of the summer nibbling at the Big Apple. I'd ended up with a mouthful of worms. It seemed years since I'd rolled up my practice pencils into the Tchaikovsky score and filed the package away in my drawer.

Kathy had been moved from Intensive Care into a private room. She was out of the coma, but under heavy sedation as a result of the washing-out process she was undergoing. I was allowed to look in on her; as I stood next to her bed looking down on her peacefully sleeping body, I felt tears of gratitude well in my eyes. I waited a few minutes, hoping that April would show up. She didn't, and I went downstairs to keep my appointment with Joshua Greene.

By now the injection procedure was becoming a familiar-if no more pleasant-ritual. After the shot, a nurse brought me tea and Joshua left me alone to dress. On my way out of the room I almost bumped into an excited and flushed April who was carrying a shopping bag that looked heavy. As always when I saw her, I experienced a small rush in my stomach and chest that had absolutely nothing to do with rabies shots.

'Robert!' she cried. 'I was just on my way over to your apartment. I met Dr. Greene in the elevator and he told me you were down here.'

'Ah, and you come bearing gifts,' I said, smiling and pointing to the bag.

'It may be something better,' April said, her voice taut and humming with excitement. 'After you left yesterday, I drove home to Philadelphia to look for those things of Frank's I told you about. Now that Kathy's going to be all right, I thought it was time I tried to help you and Garth.' She used both hands to lift the bag. 'Here's what I found.'

My heart began to pound as I took the bag from her and carried it over to an examining table. 'Is this all there was?'

'I don't know, but this is definitely what he brought last Saturday. I recognized the bag. There may be more in other parts of the attic, but I wanted to bring this to you as quickly as possible.'

Slowly and carefully, I began to take the items from the bag and lay them out on the table. There were a number of books on witchcraft, most of which looked academic and sophisticated. Many of the pages were heavily annotated in what April confirmed was Frank Marlowe's handwriting. There were also three notebooks, which I skimmed through quickly. They consisted of research notes on witchcraft and the occult in general. There was no mention of Esobus, or a supercoven.

At the bottom of the bag was a leather carrying case which contained a tiny tape recorder of the sort a person can strap to his body in order to make surreptitious recordings. There was also a small spool of recording tape.

'Have you listened to this yet?' I asked April, picking up the tape.

She shook her head and gripped my arm. 'I'm not sure how the machine works; I was afraid I'd break the tape, or erase it.'

I put the tape in the machine, turned it on.

'Black Bull of the north, Horned One, Dark Ruler of the mountains and all that lies beneath them, Prince of the Powers of Earth, be present, we pray Thee, and guard this circle from all perils approaching from the north!'

The chant was repeated twice. April whispered in my ear: 'It's an invocation of protection. It may be the coven!' I nodded as another, lone voice came on the tape.

'Whence come you?'

'I travel east in search of light.'

'What passwords dost thou bring Esobus?'

'Perfect love and perfect trust.'

April gasped, and I shut off the machine. 'It's Frank, isn't it?' I asked softly.

She slowly nodded, her eyes wide with shock. 'Yes. It's Frank's voice. What we're hearing is an initiation ceremony.'

'Frank's initiation ceremony.'

'And the other voice …' I turned the machine back on.

'I, the Guardian of the watchtower of the north, forbid thee entrance. Thou canst not enter this holy place from the north, save thou first be purified and consecrated. Who vouches for you?'

A third voice came on the tape; it was distant and muffled, barely audible.

'I, guide of souls, do so. Let Bart Stone be one of us.'