Jupiter was nowhere to be seen, but Joby had no time to wonder where he'd gone. Ahead of them, backed into a narrow cove between several high stacks of cut timber, Rose and Tholomey were pinned in place by two Dobermans growling and barking viciously as they strained at their long cable chains. An angry raven dove at the enraged dogs' heads and tails, causing them to spin and snap their teeth in fury. As Joby watched, a blue jay joined the raven's assault.

Not until Tholomey dodged to one side, did Joby see Nacho lying on the ground behind them, eyes closed, white as a sheet, dark bloodstains drenching the denim around his torn pant leg and seeping through his ragged shirtsleeve near the wrist.

Hawk had begun to yell and throw rocks at the dogs to distract them. But the sight of Nacho's savaged limbs sent a shock wave of panic and anger through Joby's body, and in what he would later call a blind rage, he grabbed a large branch and waded toward the dogs, swinging fiercely. Though close to five feet long, the branch seemed surprisingly light and immediately connected solidly with one of the dogs, causing it to keen as it flew several feet to land limply on its side. The other dog turned and sprung at Joby but the branch was there between them. The dog fell back and hunched to jump again, but Joby brought the branch down hard, grazing the dog enough to scare it off momentarily.

"Run!" Joby yelled to Rose and Tholomey.

Instead of fleeing, they dropped their sticks and grabbed Nacho's arms, assisted by Hawk, who rushed in to help them drag him toward the clearing's edge.

Meanwhile, the remaining dog charged back toward Joby at a gallop, ears back, teeth bared, silent with fury. Joby tried to ward it off again, but missed as the dog leapt and hit him in the chest with such force that he staggered back and fell. Joby flung his arms across his neck and face, expecting teeth to close somewhere on his upper body, but instead there was another whimpering cry, and the dog's weight simply vanished.

Joby opened his eyes to find Jake standing above him with a maul half-raised to strike again. But the dog lay unmoving a short ways off, bleeding from a wound on the side of its head. Its companion, whining pitifully, struggled to rise and flee on a hind leg broken by Joby's initial blow. On Jake's face, there was only sadness.

Joby began to shake, and fought an inexplicable urge to cry. Jake stooped to help him up, then went quickly back to tend to Nacho, who had regained consciousness, and was groaning in pain.

Joby looked at the dogs-one clearly dead, the other crippled-and felt his stomach knot in empathy and disgust, despite what they had done to Nacho, and tried to do to him. He turned away, and watched Jake bind Nacho's wounds with strips torn from the boy's ruined shirt, while Tholomey and Hawk looked on in silence, and Rose stroked Nacho's hair, tears trickling down her face.

"Where's Jupiter?" Joby asked.

"I sent him for more help," Jake said without turning from his work. "He and Sky found me in the woods, but I'm afoot, and we'll need a truck to get Nacho out."

Joby looked around again. "You sure saved my bacon, Jake," he said soberly. "Thank you."

"Thanks for saving theirs," Jake replied, tightening one last bandage. Nacho seemed half awake now, but calm. Jake rose and looked back at the ruined dogs, then stepped over the dead animal toward the crippled one, which shied away, whimpering as he approached. Jake crouched down in front of it crooning soothing sounds, and after a moment, reached out to stroke its back, and then its head. The animal whined in high pleading tones, then licked Jake's hand. "I'd rather have taken that maul to this creature's owner," Jake said wearily. "It's a crime against nature to twist dogs like this."

The dog laid its head down between its paws then, and closed its eyes. As Jake gave it one more pat and stood, Joby realized it was no longer breathing.

"Is it dead?" he asked in dismay.

Jake nodded without looking back.

Joby felt a dreadful shame. Some dumb creature kept on a chain, bludgeoned to death for doing exactly what it had been trained to do.

As if reading his thoughts, Jake said, "We've just set them free, Joby." He shook his head, walked back to the others, and gently asked, "What were you all doing here?"

"We-" Tholomey began, then seemed to think better of it and said, "He was cutting outside his property. We came up to . . . we . . ." The boy bowed his head in shame.

"You guys think something needs fixin'," Jake said quietly, "you come tell me, or Bridget, or some other adult. We'll take care of it."

"Will Nacho be all right?" Rose asked.

"I think so," Jake said. "Looks like they missed his arteries. Don't think he really lost as much blood as it seems. It's just the shock that's got him. And the pain. But that'll all pass quick enough, once we get him down to Dr. Locke." For the first time, he grinned. "He'd be a lot worse off if you hadn't stood by him that way. That was pretty brave." He turned to smile at Joby. "There's likely to be some pretty grateful parents, Joby. You were quite the warrior there."

Joby shrugged, a blush of pride struggling with the sorrow he still felt for having killed the dog. "Wasn't any time to think, really," he said.

"It was like something in your book!" Hawk beamed. "You were like a knight!"

Tholomey agreed.

Embarrassed, Joby changed the subject. "You guys see those birds? That was pretty weird, huh?"

To his surprise, everyone looked embarrassed.

"Birds'll fight anything that threatens their nests." Jake shrugged. "Nothin' weird about that."

Tom shook his head in disbelief. "Really, Mr. Bruech, it was unconscionable to leave such dogs unattended without a fence. They could have killed my daughter. And to guard timber? Were you afraid someone might throw those logs over a shoulder and carry them off?" He shook his head again, and looked away. "Everyone here's grown rather sour on your Mr. Ferristaff by now, and they're just not interested in selling him any more of their property. Nothing I can do about that, even if I wanted to."

"The children were trespassing," Bruech insisted, "and we have agreed to pay Mr. Shandy for his timber. What else can be expected of us?"

"Oh, we expect very little of you, Mr. Bruech. And if those kids were trespassing, it wasn't on Mr. Ferristaff's property, was it?" Tom had lost all patience with this manipulative man. "Frankly, we don't consider a few kids tromping around in the woods that big a crime around here, especially where there are no fences. Unlike your employer, Mr. Bruech, Mr. Shandy really is a lover of wilderness, and none too happy about the gash you left in his woodland, payment or no. You're a fine one to talk of trespass."

"I have already explained; that was merely an error in our understanding of the boundary lines of Mr. Ferristaff's property. We-"

"I hope your lawyers are better equipped than your surveyors then, Mr. Bruech, because the way your client conducts himself, they'll need to be. I'm sorry, but I do have other business to attend to."

The polite expression Bruech had maintained throughout their meeting fell away before an imperious glower. "I must say, you are the most self-defeating real-estate agent I have ever come across, Mr. Connolly. I had hoped we might deal with each other on more amicable terms, but you leave me no alternative but to play hardball."

"Is that some kind of threat, Mr. Bruech?" Tom asked, no longer attempting to moderate his scorn.

"As you must guess, Mr. Connolly," Bruech continued calmly, "our research into Taubolt has been quite exhaustive, and it seems that this idyllic little outpost has been remarkably unforthcoming with county and state agencies about such things as, oh . . . its existence, for instance." He raised his brows a little. "What a lot of fees and taxes don't seem to have been paid over the many, many years your town has flourished here. So many licenses missing. I'm not impeaching anyone's integrity, of course. The whole thing is clearly some kind of gross bureaucratic oversight, which your lovely community can hardly be blamed for choosing to overlook, but a century of unpaid bills? Such a costly scandal might drive Taubolt right out of existence."

Tom sat very still, unable to believe what he was hearing. If there'd been any doubt about the demise of Taubolt's defenses, there could be none now.

"Don't worry, Mr. Connolly," Bruech smiled with nearly believable sympathy, "Mr. Ferristaff is a pragmatist, not a stickler for rules. If you and whoever you've been running interference for are willing to cooperate with him, he'll be only too happy to preserve your remarkable little secret, even, perhaps, to bolster it."

"I am just a Realtor, Mr. Bruech," Tom said weakly. "I own none of the property you're interested in. There are others I will have to talk with."

"Of course," Bruech said, rising now to stretch and smile. "I never meant to accuse you of being more than a middleman. Talk with your clients. You have all the time you need. Weeks and weeks, if necessary." He turned to go, but turned back at the door to add, "It seems to me that Mr. Ferristaff is doing Taubolt a favor. If you don't sell to us, what's to stop some truly ruthless timber operation from moving in and clear-cutting these hills for as far as the eye can see?"

As he labored painfully up the stairs behind the Primrose Picket Inn and toward the attic room where Council meetings were held, Father Crombie met Mrs. Lindsay carrying an empty tray back toward the kitchen.

"Hello, Father. They're all here, buzzing like a fallen wasp's nest."

"Who can blame them?" he sighed. "Have they started, then?"

"They're waiting for you, I think."

"Then I must redouble my pace," he joked, hoisting himself up another step.

A moment later, as he entered the high, peaked room with its pine rafters and dormer windows, conversation came to a halt as he was greeted courteously. "Sorry I'm late," he said, lowering himself into a chair beside Jake and near the head of the table. "Have you arrived at some solution without me, I hope?"

Alice Mayfield, who ran Taubolt's art gallery, harrumphed something that might have been a laugh, and replied, "We've all been counting on your plan, Father."

The Council consisted of five women, and five men, all but Crombie of the blood and longtime residents of Taubolt. At the end of the table opposite Jake sat the town's stellar new arrival, Solomon Rand, a nearly pure-blooded ancient like Jake, it was said, and thus invited to their Council meeting, though not yet an official member.

"I still do not understand what happened to the aversions we have always maintained," said Orrydia Honzel in her thick German accent, apparently resuming the conversation interrupted by Crombie's arrival. "That people are finally beginning to notice our presence, I can understand, but why should one man have been able to pursue the facts of our existence with such focus for so long without being turned aside?"

"Our arts work fine on human minds, Orrydia, but not on machines," Jake said. "I suspect it's computers that're shortin' out our defenses. Ferristaff's little trap may not be quite as foolproof as he thinks, though, for the very same reason. Solomon and I have a plan, which I'll let him explain, since it's execution will be largely his affair."

Solomon cleared his throat, and said, "First, let me say that I am honored by the reception you've shown me, appearing unannounced, as I have, in such troubled times."

"Any friend of Jake's is a friend of ours, Mr. Rand," said Bridget O'Reilly. "And the addition of a second ancient to our assembly right now is doubly welcome."

"Thank you." Solomon nodded. "As Jake indicated, my travels these many years have equipped me with considerable knowledge of the larger world's new technologies, and I believe they may be used to defuse Mr. Ferristaff's case against us. Unfortunately, I fear we will have to purchase the necessary time by giving Ferristaff at least a little of what he wants for now."

"You mean sell him all that land?" Tom Connolly objected.

"Not all the land he wants," Solomon answered. "Just enough to keep him interested and leave him cause to continue threatening us for a while. Given a year or two, I should be able to place sufficient 'lost' records in enough bureaucratic sinkholes to convince any thorough investigator that Taubolt has, in fact, been paying fees and applying for licenses all along and simply fallen victim to embezzlement and bungling."

"But, won't more land just make him harder to dislodge?" Bridget asked.

"It's pretty clear by now that Ferristaff plans to log whatever property he gets his hands on," Jake said. "Solomon's learned that he owns a huge national lumber company." There was a general gasp from around the table. "The mountains around Taubolt must look like the lost mother lode to him."

"This is intolerable!" snapped Alfred Cognolio, who ran what many affectionately called "the junk shop" on Main Street and was normally the quietest of them all. "I say we just pay the bastard an unfriendly visit tonight, and scare some virtue into him!"

"And when he tells everyone what he saw?" asked Florence Kellerman.

"They'll think he's mad, of course." Alfred shrugged.

"Can't risk it," said Jake. "To get his whole company out of here, we'd have to scare a lot of others too. 'Stead of thinkin' they're all mad, people might get interested in findin' out what's up 'round here. The last thing we need is more attention."

"What do you suggest then?" asked Franklin Holt.

"There's that old proverb about bein' careful what you wish for." Jake shrugged. "If half the trees he harvests turn out to be rotted useless with some new fungal disease, and enough of his equipment is trashed by rogue falls, landslides, salt-air damage, and such, we can make his operation cost him more than it's earnin'. His own stockholders might pull 'im out then." Jake smiled. "That'd also discourage other loggin' operations from comin' to take his place. Otherwise, as his Mr. Bruech pointed out, we might just get rid of one bastard to find ourselves dealing with another."

"All right," said Franklin. "The hardware store can play its part in slowing him down, certainly. But what about the Cup? If the border's gone, does it make sense to keep putting it so casually into public view on Sundays?"

Jake turned to Father Crombie.

"It would seem to me," said Father Crombie, "that in such times, the Cup's influence may be more important than ever. Most of Taubolt's own ognibs have never guessed the truth. I can't see that a few more strangers in town pose any immediate threat to its safety. In any case, Ms. Hamilton, Mr. Ferristaff, and all of their crowd has seemed disinclined to attend church."

"But if wickedness can enter Taubolt now, might not the Cup become aroused?" Orrydia asked. "Its nature might not be so subtle then. If the wrong eyes should see-"

"Evil, in Taubolt!" Daisy LeRonde exclaimed softly, as if this were too much to fathom. The room fell silent as her utterance struck home.

"Well, if it's evil we're up against," said Florence, "perhaps we should be moving the spring rites forward. There would be some added strength in-"

"If added strength is what's needed," Daisy interjected, "it makes no sense to weaken the rite by holding it out of time."

"Besides," Bridget said, "if we move it forward even a week we'd have to pull half our children from several days of school. How would we explain that to-"

"Hey, hey," Jake said, smiling reassuringly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. The border may be gone, but the Cup's as potent as ever, so it's not like anything monstrous is just gonna amble into town. I say we leave things be until we've got some better reason than vague fears of future trouble to change 'em."

"All right," said Alice. "But we'd still better be a lot more careful than we have been. Among other things," she gazed gravely at the Council's other members, "that means telling our kids to stop playing with power where anyone might see. That episode with Joby Peterson in the woods last week was downright reckless."

"That was hardly playing," Tom protested. "Jupiter and Sky were trying to save Nacho's life, not to mention Tholomey's and Rose's."

Many at the table nodded, but Alice stood firm. "I understand, and I'm grateful they succeeded, but, frankly, this was not the first time I've seen those kids act almost like they're daring Joby to get it. They've come to like him a bit too much, I'm afraid."

Father Crombie glanced toward Jake, and found the ancient gazing back. Given Taubolt's escalating troubles, it did seem time to stop hiding what they knew of Joby's past from the Council. People must know Joby well enough by now to give him a fair hearing and decide what should be done.

"That's because he's likable," Bridget replied to Alice, then turned to Jake. "It's been months now, Jake, and I have yet to sense even a hint of threat in him. That storm may have had something to do with whatever's happening to our borders, but I've come to doubt that Joby's arrival was anything but coincidence. It does seem pretty likely that he's of the blood though, and I'm not entirely clear about why we're all still trying so hard to hide from him. Isn't it time he was helped to understand, just like all the others?"

Yes, Crombie thought, the time had come. To his surprise, however, Solomon spoke up before he had a chance to say so.

"Since coming here, I have had the pleasure of making this young man's acquaintance," the ancient said, "and have learned things about his earlier life which, in all sincerity, I do not feel entitled to relate, but which do leave me utterly assured that he has no secret designs of any kind on Taubolt, nor intends anyone here a shred of harm.

"That said, however, I am also persuaded that it might be best, at present, to leave him blissfully ignorant of whatever he has not yet guessed about this town, or about himself. Here in Taubolt, he has found the one thing he most desperately needs: refuge, both from the world that drove him here and from himself. I fear deeply that the very things you would help him understand might serve only to deprive him of that refuge once again. As I said, I am unable to elaborate without violating confidences I feel bound to honor. I am sorry to be so oblique, and will fully support whatever decision this gathering comes to, but I felt obliged to equip you with my counsel on the matter."

Crombie looked to Jake, as did all the others.

"I've got no cause to challenge anything he's said." Jake shrugged. "Joby seems a bright enough fellow, and such things are often best left to shake out in their own way and at their own pace. If he wants to know more about what's goin' on, he'll ask, I s'pose. 'Til then, let's just go about our business and leave him be."

20.

( The Golden Season ) Joby was awakened from an afternoon nap by a tentative knock. It had been too soft for Hawk and too long for Mrs. Lindsay, who always tapped just twice. He shrugged off his covers and crossed the room to open the door.

"Laura!" he said, surprised.

"Mrs. Lindsay said I should just come up," she said. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. Come in." He smiled and bowed her through the door, before remembering the rumpled clothes strewn across the foot of his bed, or the pile of assignments he'd left spread across his desk. "It's a little messy, I guess."

"Not by Arthur's standards." She smiled.

He pulled out the desk chair for her, then went back to sit on his bed. "To what do I owe this unexpected honor?"

"Arthur's report card came yesterday. His lowest grade was a C, and there were two Bs. I can't tell you how grateful I am, Joby."

"Well, it's his accomplishment, not mine." Joby smiled.

"I know that," she said, getting up to look out his window at the headlands already going gold with summer heat. "Someday you should really learn how to just say, 'thank you,' or 'you're welcome.' " She gave him a wry smile. "You're the best thing that's happened to Arthur since we came here. He talks about your hikes and your talks, and even your tutoring sessions, as if you were some kind of action hero."

Joby covered his bashfulness with a brief, sitting bow, and said, "I've done no more than chivalry and honor require, m'lady," then hastily added, "but your praise is rich reward. I thank you, and you're welcome."

She gave a light, uplifting laugh quite unlike the weary, cynical one he remembered from their first conversation. "I'd forgotten you could do that!" she said wistfully. "It's like being right back at one of our old Roundtable meetings."

"Well . . . I get a little silly, sometimes," he said, cringing at the memory of his childhood grandiosities.

"I wasn't teasing you," she said. "I just . . . it makes me happy, remembering how things were when we were kids."

"I know. I'm sorry," Joby said. "I'm being . . . It's great that Hawk's coming into his own." Laura got up and came toward him. "And I really appreciate your coming to-"