"My folks'd kill me!" Jamie blurted. "I ain't kiddin'! Promise me you won't say nothin' to no one! Please!"

"We won't tell," Joby assured him. "We promise. Don't we, Benjamin?"

"Yeah," Benjamin said, beginning to look genuinely ashamed. "I promise."

"Jamie, if we'd known what was going on . . .," Joby began. "I mean-"

"Oh yesss!" Lucifer breathed, bending closer to the bowl. "Do the noble thing, my little paragon! Reach out to the darkness."

"I mean . . .," Joby hesitated. "We don't have to be enemies. If you want . . . we could be friends, I guess."

"YES!" Lucifer shouted. He looked up and spread his arms in exultation, allowing the angelic radiance he so seldom revealed to blaze around him as if a hundred suns had suddenly risen in his office! What luck!

"I know how bad I'd feel," Lucifer heard Joby say, "if my parents-"

"Well they don't, do they!" he heard Lindwald growl, oozing scorn and wounded pride now that he had Joby where he wanted him.

Lucifer's radiance vanished instantly as he bent in alarm over the viewing bowl again and realized in horror that the unmitigated ass didn't begin to comprehend the strategic value of what he'd accomplished! In a roil of panicked fury, Lucifer literally flew to the gleaming obelisk beside his office door, slammed his hand against it, and shouted, "Accept his offer, you worthless sack of excrement!"

He raced back to the viewing bowl to see Lindwald look appalled, then confused, then turn to Joby with an expression of abashed contrition, and ask, "You mean it?"

"Course I do," Joby assured him.

Lucifer released a huge sigh of relief.

"Nobody ever . . . Who'd wanna be friends with me?"

"Stop pushin' everyone around," Joby told him, "and you could have all kinds of friends-couldn't he, Benjamin?"

"Well," Benjamin conceded, "I guess . . . if he'd start actin' like he wants friends."

"I do want friends," Jamie mumbled. "You ain't gonna tell no one. About my folks. Right?"

"We promise," Joby said, sticking out his hand. "Shake on it?"

Lindwald took his hand with a timid smile, then turned and held his hand out to Benjamin, who, after a moment's hesitation, shook it too.

Lucifer stared thoughtfully at the bowl as they left together, Lindwald wearing Benjamin's coat to cover his back. Joby's marvelous capacity for rage could be just the handle he'd been looking for, once he knew how to leverage it without tripping the wrong wires. And Lindwald! What an act! Perhaps he'd try turning up the heat on Williamson now too. Who knew what marvelous potential lurked just below the surface there as well? In fact, perhaps he'd been too kind to everyone in Hell.

Frank was in the locker room after a particularly satisfying round of racquet-ball. Karl wandered in a moment later, wearing a conspiratorial grin. The two of them had pretty well slaughtered Mike and Phillip.

Then Jack Stives came around the corner, and Frank's good mood went straight to hell. Stives was a tall, muscular man with the ego and manners of a rutting ram. His son, Tommy, was in Joby's class at school, and, like his father, always spoiling for a fight. Years before, after a few of their boys' early quarrels, Jack and Frank had run afoul of each other. That had been before Joby had learned to handle himself, of course. Tommy left Joby alone now.

"Hey! Frank!" Stives exclaimed as he headed for his locker. "Funny I should run into you! I was just hearin' about your boy from my Tommy not half an hour ago!"

"No kidding." Frank grinned back, carefully casual.

"Seems he's become quite an item at school these days!" Jack said. "I hear his little club's gettin' rave reviews. What's it called?" He grimaced, trying to remember.

"The Roundtable." Frank smiled. "Yeah, Joby talks about it all the time."

"That's right." Jack grinned, pulling the sopping shirt off his broad back. "The Roundtable. I knew it was something magical, but I thought it was fairies or something."

Here we go, Frank thought wearily. He shoved the last of his things into the locker, and reached for his coat. "Good seeing you, Jack. See you later, Karl."

"Yup. Tommy tells me your boy put up quite a fight today," Jack said.

Frank stopped, and turned back to face him. "Did he? I haven't been home yet."

"Well, I'm only tellin' you what I heard from Tommy, of course. But he says this kid, Lindfield, threw your boy halfway 'cross the playground this afternoon. Not the first time either, I guess." Jack shook his head. "Awesome patience your boy's got. My Tommy'd been all over that clown weeks ago. Anyhow, when your boy still wouldn't fight him, that little girl, Laura Bayer, the one broke her arm a while back, she steps right in to fight for Joby, and this asshole decks her right in front of everybody! Cast and all! That's some popular boy you got there, Frank. Little girls throwin' themselves across the tracks to protect him." He winked. "Quite the little lady-killer, sounds like to me."

Karl barked one quick laugh, then looked apologetically at Frank, while Stives looked startled, then beamed, as if just getting his own joke. "Whoa!" he exclaimed. "I didn't even do that on purpose! Lady-killer!" He guffawed. "Get it, Frank?"

"Yeah, I got it," Frank said levelly. He gave Karl a reproachful look, and headed for the door, hoping he didn't look as humiliated as he felt. It was like goddamn Jack "crap-for-brains" Stives had been watching Frank's damn, sick dreams or something! Protected by little girls, for godsake! Something had to be done, but he knew he'd better cool down first. A drink or two at the Filling Station might do the trick. Then he'd talk to Joby and find out what this was all about.

Trying harder than ever to be more perfect, Joby had finished his science report on sea life the moment he'd come home, then cleaned his room. Dinner was not for half an hour at least, but he'd already washed his hands twice. Now he sat on his bed, clutching his Arthurian tome, and trying to sort things out. The enemy had clearly tricked him into punishing an innocent person. Hadn't Joby told Benjamin on Sunday that persecuting Jamie was a mistake?

Now Joby couldn't stop wondering what it would be like to have parents who burned lines on his skin when they got mad, or called him a "bastard" in front of strangers. Joby had never thought much before about what other people might be going through. What was it like for Tony to be poor? How did Duane feel, getting picked on so often? How many of his other friends were going through terrible things in secret? In that moment, Joby suddenly discovered his heart's desire, though not quite how to express it. Recalling Father Crombie's sermon that first time he'd gone to church with Benjamin, Joby wanted terribly to fix all the sadness and harm that weighed on people like Jamie. Lights in the darkness, Father Crombie had said. The image of candles bloomed in his mind. A circle of tiny lights in the darkness, growing in number, spreading like a wave, farther and farther in all directions from where he stood willing the darkness away.

There was a knock on Joby's bedroom door.

"Come in."

Joby's dad stuck his head in. "How ya doin', sport?"

"Okay, Dad. . . . How come you're home so late?"

"I just had things to take care of after work. Can I come in?"

"Sure," Joby said. Hadn't he just said "come in"?

When his dad sat down beside him, there was a funny sweet smell on his breath.

"How'd your day go, Joby?"

"Okay. I wrote a report on sea life."

"You did, huh." His father smiled.

"Yeah. For science, we're studying things that live in the ocean. You should see, Dad! Crabs, and seashells, and sea enemies that shoot little poison darts into anything that touches them! Only they can't hurt people, 'cause we're too big-only little fish. And starfish walk on little tubes with suction cups on the end, and when they clamp down almost nothing can move 'em. And you know what, Dad? Up close, they're like monsters! Last year, Mrs. Baker said monsters are just make-believe, but she's wrong! They're just real small!"

His father's smile widened, and he ran a hand through Joby's hair, raven black, like his own. "You really like science, huh?"

"Yeah," Joby said. "I didn't like plants much. But sea animals are cool."

"I saw Tommy Stives's dad at the health club after work today. He said you've been having trouble with that boy you fought with back in September. Is that true?"

Coming right out of the blue like that, the question left Joby feeling caught out and ashamed somehow, though his dad didn't seem mad. He looked down and nodded. "We had a fight after school today . . . but-"

"Jack said Laura Bayer got hit," his father said before Joby could tell him everything had come out all right.

"Yeah," Joby said, "but she didn't get hurt. Well, not too bad. She's okay now."

"Why was she involved, Joby?"

"She stood up to Jamie when he tried to fight me."

"Why didn't you stand up for yourself, son?"

"What? . . . Dad, I-"

"Has someone been telling you it's wrong to fight?" His father was still smiling, but the smile seemed strained now. "Do they tell you that at church?"

"No," Joby said, feeling worried. Something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what it was. "Well, sometimes. But that's not-"

"They're wrong, Joby." His father's smile had vanished completely. He was definitely angry, and as he leaned closer to Joby, the sweet smell on his breath got stronger. "It's never okay to be a bully, son, but sometimes a man needs to stand up for himself, and then it's not just okay to fight. It's right. It's good. Next time this bastard picks on you, you just flatten him. Understand? No son of mine needs little girls taking his falls."

Joby wanted to tell his dad that Jamie and him were friends now; that Laura was proud of him; that Jamie wasn't a bastard. But he didn't dare speak. His father was mad at him, and he didn't know what it was safe to say.

"I'm not mad at you, Joby," his father said, sounding sad. He reached out to stroke Joby's hair again. "I just want you to be proud of yourself."

"I must say, Kallaystra, your versatility never ceases to amaze me."

"You flatter me, Bright One, but I rather enjoy bartending, really. The Filling Station has such a wonderfully distressed clientele, and I'm such a good listener, you know." She smiled thoughtfully. "The boy's father is rather charming really, by their standards, and very good looking." She giggled seductively, and Lucifer laughed as well. "The friction between him and the child's mother should ignite very nicely any time now. The boy's sudden interest in religion works greatly to our advantage in this as well."

"Indeed," Lucifer replied. "Williamson tells me your priest has Joby struggling with pride already. Imagine! Only nine!" he chortled. "What a precocious boy."

"I knew you'd be pleased."

"Oh yes. In fact, I'm especially happy about Richter's admirable concern for . . . physical purity." He chuckled softly. "Given our progress with Joby's father, Richter's paranoia provides some delicious opportunities to up the volume of Joby's little conundrum, wouldn't you say? Damned at home if he doesn't want a woman, damned at church if he does. That's always been one of my favorite recipes."

"Bright One, the boy is only nine," Kallaystra said. "Isn't that a bit early to be thinking about sex?"

"The most fruitful seeds are planted well before the thaw, Kallaystra. How far ahead do you suppose the Enemy has planned?"

Her skepticism vanished in a grim nod. "Too true, Bright One. I'll begin tilling the soil immediately."

They were interrupted by a soft chime.

"That will be Williamson." Lucifer frowned. "He's overdue for one of his dreary reports."

When he'd placed his hand against the dark obelisk beside the door, however, his startled expression told Kallaystra that the message must be anything but dreary.

"Forgive me, Kallaystra," he blurted out. "I think he may have found it!"

Lucifer vanished before she could ask who "he," or what "it" was.

Laura had wisely left the meeting so that the knights could talk freely, and Bobby Lehan was now vehemently expressing his objections to Benjamin's proposal.

"I never saw you stand up to Lindwald, Bobby," Benjamin rebutted. "She's been brave as any of us a whole bunch of times, and I say it's stupid she can't be a knight."

"He's right," said Tony Esquivel. "Look how much she gets hurt all the time. She's plenty tough to be a knight."

"You're just on her side 'cause she got you in, Tony!" Johnny Mayhew sneered.

"Tony's in same as you," Joby objected, " 'cause he passed the tests, and we all wanted him."

"Yeah, Johnny!" Duane said. "Don't be a jerk to Tony just 'cause you're-"

"Shut up, Duane!" Johnny pouted. "You been kissin' up to her ever since you knocked her outta that tree. If it weren't for you, none of this'd be happening!"

"What's your problem, Mayhew?" Joby asked. "Laura done something to you?"

"She's . . . This is not a club for girls!" Johnny sputtered. "Girls can't be knights!"

"Yes they can!" Benjamin beamed. "I got proof!" He lifted a volume of the encyclopedia from the table in front of him. "I asked Mrs. Escobedo, and she-"

"Mrs. Escobedo!" Johnny scoffed. "What does she know about being a knight?"

"Johnny, shut up and listen!" Joby insisted.

"Mrs. Escobedo showed me this," Benjamin said, glaring at Johnny Mayhew. He opened to a marked page, and, to Johnny's clear consternation, began reading the entry on Joan of Arc.

High up near the ceiling, two moths lay flat against the wall, watching the Roundtable's proceedings in mothy silence. The larger insect was white with huge gray eyes, the smaller one, dark brown with bright black ones.

"Is he not a joy to behold, My Lord?" The stream of thought passing between Gabriel and his Lord was filled with affection for Joby. "Look at how proud he is of Benjamin."

"And of the girl," the white moth agreed. "The three of them have become quite the little trio, haven't they."

"In truth," Gabriel replied, "they often remind me of the very ones they imitate. She is much like Guinevere, and Arthur would certainly have taken a shine to Joby. Benjamin is so like Lancelot that, were his coloring darker, I'd-"

Gabe saw his Master's wings quiver slightly, and sensed the soft puff of pheromones that passed for a smile among moths. Suddenly, the pieces fell together, causing his dark wings to flutter involuntarily.

"Surely . . ." the dusky moth broadcast in the mental equivalent of a gasp, "You can't mean-They're not really-"

"I did promise them a second chance," the white moth replied. "Remember?"

"But . . . now? I do not mean to question You, Lord, of course, but isn't this contest challenging enough without throwing that knot into it as well?"

"I promised them," the Creator insisted. "And if Lucifer should win, I'll never have another chance to keep that promise."

For a moment, Gabriel was struck speechless-even for a moth. "My Lord," his mind whispered at last, "surely You do not anticipate defeat!"

"Perhaps He does," came a sardonic mental voice from just behind them.

Both moths fluttered up and turned to land again facing the large, shiny black spider that had snuck up on them from above.

"Two moths out alone should be more careful," the spider admonished. "What if I'd been hungry and failed to realize who you were in time?"