"How do you know about that?" asked Joby "Hawk told us," Blue said.

Joby looked at Hawk, who shrugged and smiled. "Mom told me all about it."

"She did?" Joby asked uncomfortably. "What did she say?"

"She said it was cool." Hawk grinned. "Like being characters from your book, and you were like King Arthur."

Joby dismissed this with something like a snort. "I was more like a fourth-grader with pretensions," he said, then, surprised to find that it no longer shamed him to talk about it, he began telling them about games on the tournament field, and how Hawk's mother had gotten to be their official damsel in distress, and later a full-fledged knight. Warming to the subject, he went on to describe some of their more famous secret missions-and Laura's role in keeping the club appraised of who needed encouragement.

Jupiter turned to grin at Blue, and said, "That'd be so damn fast, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah!" Tholomey replied.

"It was secret, right?" asked Ander. "No one else knew who did those missions?"

Joby nodded. "We left little yellow disks of cardboard with a red dragon on them to let someone know they'd been aided by the Roundtable, but no one outside the club was ever told who exactly had done the deed."

"Then shut up, you guys." Ander grinned at the others.

"How about this great weather," Jupiter mused, his face suddenly comical with feigned innocence.

Joby smiled, fairly sure the idea would be forgotten by morning.

Joby woke to find the eastern sky aglow with approaching dawn, and himself filled with restlessness, as if he'd forgotten something urgent, or remembered something . . . almost. Knowing he was through with sleep, he slipped quietly from his dewy bag and left camp to relieve himself. After that, he went down to the water's edge and settled on a rock ledge above their swimming hole to watch the sun rise and bid the lake and all its pleasant memories farewell.

The water was glassy smooth, utterly silent. Not far off a trout leapt, then another. The spreading rings merged slowly as they move toward shore. Peaks around the lake turned rose then golden as the sun came up, until the rocks he sat on were gilded too, and the water at his feet changed from black to blue to emerald. In its glassy depths, hypnotic moires of light moved slowly across the lake bottom. Two trout swam lazily by, utterly secure in their shimmering world. Giving in to the lake's allure, Joby stripped his clothes off, stretched his arms up, and dove far out over the water, seeing himself reflected in its still surface, as if in flight, before the stinging slap, the shock of cold, and the beautiful, gliding stream of motion through its liquid embrace.

After forty feet of freestyle to warm himself, he ducked beneath the surface, letting his breath go and plunging toward bottom. The water grew colder, but he loved the feel of it on his skin. Opening his eyes, he hung motionless in dancing, tranquil brilliance, lost in silence, utterly relaxed, completely alive. Only when his lungs lost patience with him did he push into the soft mud beneath his feet and shoot up and up, bursting back into the morning with a gasp.

Climbing back onto the ledge, he sat naked and dripping in the early sun, covered in undulating reflections of sunlight, and feeling suddenly as wild, as still, and as beautiful as everything around him. Lost in light and warmth, he gazed out across the dazzling water, and became aware of movement all around him in the silence.

Tiny flies danced on the lake's surface. Bees and dragonflies darted or hovered all along the shore. Ants searched the rocks and pebbles for morsels to bring back to their queen. Thistle seeds and iridescent strands of gossamer drifted through the open air, backlit with rainbow fire by the rising sun, until it seemed the entire world was one slow, swirling dance of glinting, golden illumination. It was the strangest feeling, yet familiar in some nameless way as well. A small wasp landed on Joby's arm, carrying the rainbow in its wings, but he felt no fear of being stung, only the tickling touch of kin. A bottle fly, also covered in rainbows, landed on his knee; one more intimate connection with the moving, luminous scheme of life that stretched away across the lake into the forest beyond, and on out of sight. With a surreal surge of wholeness and well being, Joby wondered how he'd stumbled into this sudden fairyland, and what might happen if he tried reaching farther into- "Whaaaaaaawhoooo!"

The shout and several pounding steps behind him were all the warning he received before Jupiter's body came hurtling past him to land like a depth charge in the lake, drenching Joby and his perch with spray, and shattering the spell. An instant of wrenching dismay at the loss of his fragile ecstasy was followed by a spontaneous explosion of pure wildness in Joby's breast, released in a banshee shout as he cannonballed into the water beside Jupiter. Within minutes, everyone had joined them, ending their retreat as they had begun it, in naval warfare.

After breakfast, they packed their gear and reluctantly left the lake behind.

They'd been under way for several hours when they reached a particularly steep and rocky stretch of streambed. The trail switchbacked higher on the embankment, but some of the guys, impatient for speed, or just tired of eating one another's dust, hiked into the margins of the stream itself, and began to hop from boulder to boulder as if their packs weighed nothing.

"That doesn't look very safe, guys," Joby called down to them. "Why don't you come back up on the trail?"

This earned him a withering look from Sky, who said, "We're not two-year-olds."

"Yeah, but who do you suppose your folks'll blame if something dumb happens out here?" Joby pressed. Ignoring him completely, Hawk jumped down from one boulder to another right behind Sky. "Come on, Hawk. Your mom'll skin me alive if I bring you back with a broken arm."

"Joby!" Hawk frowned. "Lighten up."

Seeing that he'd embarrassed Hawk, Joby shrugged and shut his mouth.

Sky hopped from one large boulder, onto a second smaller one at the lip of a pool, then down onto a third, as wide as he was tall, which rocked forward suddenly, and gave way beneath him.

"Whoa!" Hawk cried, as Joby whirled to see Sky flail in midair, then drop like a sack of sand, landing facedown under his pack on the muddy bank as the huge rock tumbled over his legs and went crashing into the underbrush downstream.

There was a moment of shocked immobility before everyone hurried toward Sky, who lay facedown and motionless.

"Don't move him!" Joby shouted, rushing to the boy's side. When he got there, he knelt down, overtaken by an eerie calm, and said, levelly, "Sky?"

The boy did not respond.

"Sky, you hear me?" Joby said, trying to calculate how long it might take him to drop his pack and run back to their cars at the trail head. It would take hours to get help. Should he send someone else? The others stood around in helpless silence, pale with fear. Did any of them know enough first aid to cope until . . . what? A helicopter arrived? From where? No matter how they handled this, it was going to be a nightmare. Dully surprised at his own persisting calm, Joby wished with all his might for some kind of miracle, and said again, "Sky, if you're conscious, I just want you to move something. A hand or anything."

Slowly, Sky turned his head, revealing a pale, muddy face, and said quietly, "Just give me a minute."

Joby felt a wash of relief. At least he was conscious.

"How bad are your legs?" he asked, still embedded in improbable calm.

To his amazement, Sky rolled over and said, shakily, "That was scary." Everyone seemed to breath again at once. Sky stretched out a hand to Blue, who'd been hovering over him all the while, and said, "Help me up."

"Whoa, whoa!" Joby said. "Don't put any weight on those legs! Aren't you hurt?"

Sky shook his head. "I don't think so. I'm just gonna sit up, okay?"

Joby could not believe that Sky was unhurt, but after Blue pulled him up into a sitting position, the boy bent his knees and said, "I'm fine. Really. I just wanted to be sure before I moved, that's all." He smiled wanly. "I guess I had that coming, huh?"

Weak with incredulous relief, Joby said nothing.

"You sure were calm, Joby," Tholomey said.

"Yeah," said Hawk. "I thought you were gonna freak, for sure."

"Well," Joby said, suddenly wanting nothing so much as a long nap, "for future reference, when I get that calm, you can bet we're in deep, deep shit." He felt shaky now, and so, so sleepy. "Sky, are you sure you're not hurt? That rock rolled right across your legs. It must have weighed half a ton."

"It must've just looked that way from where you were standing," Sky said sheepishly. "'Cause I'm fine."

"But . . . Didn't the rest of you see it?" Joby insisted, turning to the others.

"Looked kind of like it bounced a little to me," Blue said nervously. "Maybe it just rocked over them, you know?" He didn't smile, seeming oblivious of his own pun.

"Mud's pretty soft here," Jupiter suggested uncomfortably. "Maybe that helped."

There were two deep indentations in the mud where Sky's knees had been, but Joby still couldn't trust such luck. "Don't stand up yet," he said, moving around to put his palms on the bottoms of Sky's feet. "Press your legs very lightly against my hands. If it hurts at all, stop." Sky did so. "Try a little harder, but just until it hurts." Joby pressed.

Sky pushed harder, and shrugged. "I'm sorry I scared everyone, but I'm really okay." He shook his head. "I really thought that rock was in there solid."

"Well, that's the damnedest luck I ever saw," Joby said. "Not that I'm complaining." He helped Sky up, still warning him to take it slow, but when the boy had gained his feet and started back for the trail, walking as easily as ever, Joby finally accepted that, for once, he'd gotten what he'd prayed for. "Okay, let's try to stay alive just a few hours longer," he said grimly. "No jumping off cliffs, swan-diving over waterfalls, or using handheld explosive devices 'til you're back at home, and it's your parents' problem. Got it?"

Everyone meekly reassured him, and trudged off looking at their feet, as if Sky had died. Joby followed them feeling so tired that he hoped they wouldn't have to carry him to the truck before they'd finished.

Dear Mom and Dad, A letter from your son. Can you believe it?

I have no idea how to do this, so I'll just plunge in. I'm sure you've known I was hiding from you all these years, and I guess I've always known, deep down, how much it must be hurting you to let me do it. That's one of many reasons it's so hard to write this even now when I have only happy things to say for once. I suppose there were things I thought I should protect you from, or that I was just afraid to tell you, but I'm not going to fill this letter with excuses. I just hope that you're both well, and that, if you can forgive all these years of silence, you'll let me come out of hiding now, at last.

I am doing unbelievably well here. In Taubolt, I have finally found a place that feels more profoundly and wonderfully like home than I ever dreamed possible. I am teaching English in the high school here, and helping out at the Primrose Picket Inn, where I have a very cozy room. The innkeeper, Mrs. Lindsay, has been kind beyond all explanation. Everyone is kind here. It's like a completely different world. And I've become a completely different person. I end each day happy now, and grateful. I'm even in way better physical shape than I ever was before. I don't ever want to leave this place. I love everything about it and everyone I know here-especially the kids-more than I know how to say. I love you guys too. And for the first time in far too many years, I'm not afraid to tell you so. I'm not sure why I ever was.

You should come visit me. Mrs. Lindsay says you can stay for free here at the inn. She's an amazing cook! I want you to meet my friends, and I want them to meet you. I have so many, many great stories to tell you, but I'd rather do it face-to-face over one of Mrs. Lindsay's delicious dinners. Do you think you could come? Pretty please?

Love,

Your prodigal son, Joby

P.S. You'll never guess who I found living here as well! Remember Laura Bayer? How's that for "small world"? She has an amazing son named Arthur, though everyone but her just calls him Hawk. Sadly, her husband left them just over a year ago. (I am trying hard not to seem too happy about that.) Expecting a tantrum of historic proportions, even by Hell's standards, Kallaystra managed not to cringe as Lucifer finished reading, and let the boy's letter flutter down onto the conference table. Not a breath was drawn by any of the assembled throng as the unnerving silence stretched and stretched, while Hell's master stared down at the document outlining the unraveling of all their efforts.

When the suspense became unbearable, Kallaystra took her life into her hands and murmured, "At least it was intercepted before reaching them."

Lucifer just went on staring, no longer at the letter, but at the empty air between himself and it.

"Love," he mused at last, "is a many-splendored thing, is it not?"

Everyone stared in confusion, as unable as Kallaystra, it seemed, to imagine what this abstract utterance might portend.

Lucifer turned to Kallaystra with not half the ire she'd been braced for, and said, almost cheerfully, "See that it's delivered."

"The letter?" someone in the crowd blurted out stupidly.

"The boy's clearly put considerable effort into its composition," Lucifer answered mildly. "It seems rather peevish to waste all his work just because we can."

The gathering's confusion became as palpable as their dread had been.

"Bright One," Kallaystra said carefully, "it seems that you've conceived of some new plan the rest of us are failing to perceive."

"Ever the diplomat," Lucifer said with a predatory grin. "Surely I am not the only one who sees it." He looked around as if expecting some response.

"I fear you are," she said, well aware of how he savored such chances to make them all look stupid. "May we beg enlightenment?"

"But it's so obvious!" He smiled. "Everything the boy has ever desired is right there in Taubolt! Everything he loves! Everything that loves him! In one convenient location." Lucifer smiled craftily. "How desperate must our Master be to cheat so clumsily? Shortly after I blew the whistle on my lately exiled brother, the Creator condescended to assault me with a lecture on love and compassion. To be sure, a rather self-serving admonition from One so soon to be in need of both from me. But I found the ploy rather more instructive than He'd intended, for it, and this lovely letter, have provided precisely the key I've been waiting for. It seems we've been pulling on the rope when all the while we should have pushed."

Seeming to realize that he wasn't getting through, Lucifer exclaimed, "Don't you see? The Enemy's entire strategy is founded on the assumption that love will save the boy from himself! I'd have seen it far sooner if I'd been looking for anything so stupid. He's virtually handed us the whole enchilada!" He beamed around the table, clearly expecting some response, but Kallaystra was as lost as everyone else.

For the first time during their meeting, Lucifer seemed truly displeased.

"This," he growled to no one in particular, "is why I'm in charge here." He turned his back on all of them and began to pace. "At very least, we can hope his parents will answer that letter and initiate some regular correspondence." He directed a baleful gaze at Kallaystra. "The boy, himself, is doing more to keep us informed than you have so far. Your timid efforts to flood that town with mortal operatives had better be trebled."

"Bright One," she said, biting down on her frustration, "I've done everything I can without-"

"Then do everything you can't!" he snapped. "Pay them to relocate if necessary. I don't give a fig for subtlety anymore. We've only six years left! Bring more attention to the place. Bring attention to us if you have to!" A sly look crossed his face. "We'll fix that afterward. Right now, I want those idyllic streets drowned beneath a tide of vice and conflict fierce enough to drive that Cup clear off the continent!" He took a few deep breaths, and resumed his pacing. "If it takes a year or two to gather them in, perhaps that's not as much a problem as you thought. No harm in giving our boy time to fall even more deeply in love with all of it. I want the hook set irretrievably. Let's see that sentimental despot lecture me once He's been defeated by His own greatest invention."

PART THREE.

The Final Measure.

21.

( Labor Day ).

"Here they come," Joby announced, half-shouting to be heard over the crowd noise and the approaching blare of brassy instruments.

The last dry heat of summer shimmered off the pavement of Main Street, bearing scents of golden grass and ripening blackberries, tanning lotion, sweat, and popcorn into the bleached September sky. Taubolt's idea of a marching band led the festivities-a baker's dozen of musicians, no two wearing the same costume, playing the same instrument or, perhaps, even the same tune; the noise of so many cheering or jeering onlookers made it difficult to tell. Taubolt's First Annual Labor Day Parade was one in a growing list of tourism incentives invented by the new Chamber of Commerce.

Despite the heat, Laura backed farther into Joby's embrace, pulling his arms more tightly around her waist for comfort. The crowd of strangers pressed to the curb around them felt more restive than festive, as if the parade were not something they'd come here to watch, but an unexpected obstacle on their way to other destinations.

"Where do they all come from?" Laura wondered aloud.

"What?" Joby asked, his chin bouncing against the top of her head.

"How do so many people even hear about a thing like this?" she asked more loudly, tilting her face up to help him hear.

She felt him shrug. "The Chamber's doing its job, evidently."

The Chamber, she thought again unhappily. A school board, the Historical Preservation Council, the Parks and Recreation Board, even a local art's committee, for heaven's sake! Taubolt had gotten along marvelously without any of them for centuries, it seemed. Why did it need them now all of a sudden? Tourists and urban-flight refugees outnumbered Taubolt's original population three to one these days. Admittedly, she and Joby were fairly recent arrivals themselves, but they had come quietly to embrace Taubolt as it was, not to change it all into the very things they'd fled here to escape. Laura didn't even try to find a parking space within blocks of the post office anymore, much less the meditative solitude in Taubolt's streets that she had once so treasured. How had this many people found such an isolated place in just two years? In her opinion, whatever that Chamber of Commerce was doing should be outlawed.

"Hey, down there," Joby said, leaning around from behind her to grin and give her a squeeze. "This isn't s'posed to be a funeral procession. Why the long face? You okay?"

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling apologetically. "I'm just missing the old Taubolt."

His grin twisted ruefully. "Yeah, I know," he said. "You wanna leave?"

"No. We're here." She shrugged. "I'll get into it. We've got to celebrate your last gasp of freedom after all. What better way than a parade?"

Joby nodded. "Hard to believe the school year's already here again, isn't it?"