"Well . . . yeah," GB said.

"Nothing else?" Hamilton pressed. "As an English teacher, I'd expect him to suggest at least a couple of other things. What about being a writer, or a teacher like himself? A professional athlete, even. Didn't he suggest any other options?"

GB shook his head, looking at his feet again.

"And where did this conversation take place, GB; in Mr. Peterson's classroom?"

GB shook his head again, the embarrassed blush returning to his face.

"Where then?" Hamilton insisted.

"The woods." GB frowned.

" 'The woods,' " Hamilton repeated. "Was there anyone else there?"

"No," GB said. "Just us."

"And what were the two of you doing there, out in the woods, alone, when he called you attractive?"

GB looked up at Joby in obvious distress.

"GB?" Hamilton purred. "You're not in any trouble as long as you tell the truth."

Merlin began to curse Lucifer in every language he had ever learned.

"I can't," GB said, looking close to tears. "You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"A tutorial," Joby said, raising his voice to be heard over the growing murmur of the crowd. "GB has some trouble reading. It embarrasses him, for God's sake."

"Is that true?" Hamilton asked GB.

GB nodded, looking properly ashamed.

"Why did you think we wouldn't believe that?" Hamilton asked GB sadly, then turned a far less gentle gaze on Joby. "And why out in the woods, Mr. Peterson? Wouldn't tutoring be better served by a classroom full of books with lots of educational materials at hand?"

"Not for students who are inhibited by institutional settings," Joby replied coldly.

"Is that what you strive for with your students, Mr. Peterson?" she mused. "A lack of inhibition?"

"Ms. Hamilton," Tanning interrupted to his credit, "regardless of the truth in this matter, I must ask you to avoid-"

"I apologize," she cut him off. "I just find all this tremendously upsetting. Mr. Peterson, I've another question to ask you. I fear there is no gentle way to ask it, and before you answer, I will tell you that we already know the truth, and have witnesses to back it up, so I'd advise honesty this time. Have you, on any of your field trips with students, ever been naked in their presence, or seen them naked in yours?"

Joby just looked stunned at first, then enraged. "We were swimming!" he snapped. "For God's sake, Agnes!"

"Naked. Together," Hamilton said, undeterred. "With children who were your students . . . all attractive boys."

As the room erupted into chaos, Merlin could bear no more. He turned away from all the screens and went to work with renewed fervor at finding his way back from this exile Lucifer had imposed. There was nothing he could do from here to help his grandson, and his grandson very badly needed help.

35.

( "Justice" ) "Can you feel it?" Lucifer exulted theatrically before his assembled demons in the darkened glade. "Destiny's vast hinges . . . turning! Soon Joby's rage will crest and fall on Taubolt like a tidal wave, and the gates of Heaven fall at last before our glory!"

Incarnate again after her "janitorial" stint in Hell, Kallaystra checked her nails in the starlight. Was that a chip?

Lucifer did like making speeches lately, but didn't seem to grasp that giving predawn pep talks like some Jazzercise instructor wasn't likely to engender big excitement when he'd killed a quarter of the class in just three months. Since losing Hawk to his own petulant stupidity, Hell's mighty leader had been terminating "poor performers" at a rate startling even by his standards-though not Kallaystra herself, interestingly, or any of the Triangle either, despite his official position still holding them responsible for every error he had made these past few years.

Whatever he might say now, Lucifer clearly knew he needed the few intelligent operatives left him. The question in Kallaystra's mind these days was how much they needed him. After giving Basquel his just desserts, Lucifer had called her back out of banishment without a single word of apology. She meant to make it through the rest of this alive, of course, but after that it would be a very chilly day in Hell before Lucifer ever saw her face again, much less secured her help.

Most things did seem back on course, though, she had to concede. Taubolt's clueless "ognibs" lived in constant fear of "crime" now, while the minds of their persecuted children roiled with Rambo-esque fantasies of revenge upon the hostile adult world embodied in Sheriff Donaldson. Meanwhile, Taubolt's angry merchants had regrouped with fresh determination since Joby's fall from grace, to demand an all-out crackdown on "gang activity" in their little town. Even many of the half-breed bastards who dared call themselves "of the blood" were now preparing for defense at any cost. The tinder was so high and dry here that just one match would be sufficient to blow everything to Hell, and, if Lucifer was right this time, Joby was about to strike it.

Their only remaining frustration was Michael's surprising decision to join Heaven's new epidemic of disobedient archangels. He was always there now, thwarting any scheme not directly aimed at Joby. This, in Kallaystra's opinion, was by far the most intriguing development of all. Though it was never said, of course, everyone knew that Michael was the one angel Lucifer truly feared. Once consigned to Hell, as he would surely be now, might Michael not overthrow their current despot and provide some fresh leadership at last? Kallaystra had been thinking about how best to position herself against that possibility ever since she'd learned of Michael's sudden interference.

Realizing that Lucifer's motivational blather had finally ended, Kallaystra's attention returned to the day's instructions.

"During your rambles about town," he said, "I want all of you to gather bits of physical evidence on as many of the youngsters Joby cares for as you can: personal effects, strands of hair, clothing fibers, anything that might seem telling at a crime scene. I'll see to gathering Hawk's, myself, of course, when I visit Joby later this morning.

"Kallaystra, dear," he said, turning to face her. "I need you to gather information, please. I want a list of every child in Taubolt whom Joby doesn't know."

"But he knows them all!" blurted Tique, mouth on, brain off, as usual.

"Not the youngest ones," smiled Lucifer, seeming unperturbed, then turned back to Kallaystra. "Concentrate on those newest to Taubolt and not of the blood, so Joby won't be recognizing family names. Children less than eight years old should do the trick. He's all about the teens these days." Looking up at the assembly, he said jauntily, "Let's be about our work then. So many lies to tell, so little time to tell them, eh?"

Joby stalked through Taubolt's tourist-cluttered streets like an angry shadow, avoiding any eyes that seemed familiar. Muriel's outrage at the school board had been transparent as she'd made it clear that Joby would be welcome as a waiter at the Heron's Bowl. But just making the request had been humiliating for him. Hamilton's obscene maneuver hadn't just cost him his job. Years of accumulated trust and community standing, not to mention self-esteem, had all been plundered in the instant it had taken that selfish whore to whisper "pervert" to his superiors.

Joby's hard-fought campaign against Donaldson, and all the other ass-holes who'd made youth itself a crime here, had collapsed almost overnight once Joby's own veracity had become suspect. His former compatriots had fallen to quarreling about which of their various pet agendas should take precedence over others now, and within a couple weeks the whole fatigued community had simply thrown up its hands and left the stage to Hamilton and her pet sheriff. Months of effort, once seen by Joby as the culmination of all he'd become here and his crowning gift to the community that had changed his life, were all ashes now, yards short of fulfillment.

Joby was done fighting for "justice." There was no justice in the world anymore; not even here in Taubolt. The Taubolt he had loved was gone. And maybe it deserved to be, given its complacence against despoilers like Hamilton. He'd spent all summer trying to defend Taubolt's children, but none of his so-called friends had done more for him than commiserate when Hamilton had made her move.

As Joby stormed down Shea Street toward his rusty car, he couldn't help recalling the last time he had been this angry-on the streets of Berkeley. Rage haunted both his waking and his sleep now, just as it had after Gypsy's murder. All the distance he had come since then-all the hurdles he'd surmounted, inside himself as well as out-just to end up right back where he'd started! Without Ben. Without Laura. Without hope, or wish to have hope anymore. This was what it all had earned him.

Lunging into his car, Joby slammed it into gear and sent startled pedestrians scattering from the street as he pulled out. What did all these tourists think the sidewalks were for? This wasn't Main Street, Disneyland. People really drove here! He sped home daring Donaldson's goons to pull him over now. Joby'd have some magic tricks to show them. What worked on rocks and bugs would doubtless work on cops as well. The image made it possible to smile for the first time in weeks.

As Joby yanked the car into his driveway, he saw GB sitting on the fire-wood box outside his door. The last time he'd seen the boy, GB had been fleeing the school board meeting in tears. For the first time since that night, Joby found himself grudgingly concerned for someone else. They watched each other as he climbed out of the car.

"I'm sorry," GB said desolately.

"Don't be," Joby growled, walking to unlock the door. "You were just used, the way she uses everybody." As he walked inside, he said, "She had her little ace all ready, anyway. You were just the appetizer." GB still hovered uncertainly outside. "If you're comin' in, come in," Joby said gruffly as he threw himself down to lie on the couch.

"Hawk's not here?" GB asked, stepping timidly in after him.

"He's gone to help out on the Garden Coast," Joby replied. "Said there was some kind of emergency, though he probably just can't stand any more of my company."

GB sat unhappily in Hawk's favorite chair, picking nervously at the upholstery.

"If it's any comfort," Joby told him, "the board's 'Dear John' letter just said I was being let go because I seemed stressed and unhappy in my work." He snorted mirthlessly. "Knew damn well I'd slap them with a wrongful termination suit faster than you could say, 'here's your ass,' if they'd written down the truth."

"Donaldson's gonna start patrolling the shops on Main Street with dogs now," GB said miserably. "He's tellin' that to every kid he busts."

"Good," said Joby. "This town chose Hamilton's Gestapo. They should have it."

"Nobody chose that, Joby," GB said. "They just-"

"Yes, they did," Joby cut him off. "They could have stopped this if they'd really tried. They could have stopped all of it years ago. They just didn't care that much. I've been forcing help on people who never asked me for it. That was my biggest mistake."

For a while GB just looked at him despondently. Then he said, "Demon attacks are goin' up. Jake's managed to fend 'em off so far, but everybody's talkin' about goin' to the Garden Coast for protection if the Cup's not found soon." He hesitated. "Maybe you should go there right now, Joby."

"Why?" said Joby. "I've got no cause to run away. What else can they do to me?"

"Lots," GB said. "If the demons didn't have it out for you, she'd never have come after you this way."

"Who? Hamilton?" Joby scoffed. "What's she got to do with demons? She just took me down because I like the kids she hates."

"I don't think so," said GB. "Someone had to clue these demons in that we were here. Everybody says what a peaceful place this was. When did that begin to change?"

"The year I got here, if you want to know the truth," Joby said darkly.

"Just you?" GB asked. "What about Hamilton?"

Joby thought about it. "Yeah, I guess she came then too. So?"

GB nodded gravely. "And who were Sky and Jupiter after when they got killed?"

"Hamilton."

"And who brought Donaldson to Taubolt?"

"Hamilton," Joby breathed, sitting up as chills ran down his arms.

"She's workin' for them, Joby," GB said quietly. "She has been all along."

"But, there's no way to know that," Joby said. "You're just guessing."

"No, I'm not," GB said. "She's one of them. So is Donaldson."

"What, actual demons?" Joby said, incredulous despite his contempt for them.

"No. Hosts," GB said. "Demons aren't anything but air and bad intentions without a physical host. They need the host to make what they want real."

"How do you know this?" Joby said, wondering if GB were inventing all of it for some reason. "Every person of the blood I know has been talking about demons since October, and I never heard a thing about hosts."

"I didn't know any of this either until three weeks ago," GB said bleakly. "When Donaldson questioned me."

"What! He told you?" Joby said, sure now that GB was lying. But why?

"No," GB said even more forlornly. "I saw it in his mind."

"What?" gasped Joby. "You did . . . what you did to me? To him? But you said-"

"I had no choice!" GB blurted out. "He did it to me! I was so scared! He just pried me open, Joby. I couldn't keep him out, and I was sure he'd know I could see him back and kill me for it! I saw all kinds of things while he was in there, and if he knows . . ."

As GB began to cry, Joby leapt up to shut the cottage door, suddenly fearful of who, or what, might be lurking outside, listening. Then he turned to look back at GB in dawning horror. What the boy was describing was mental rape!

"When they let me go that day . . . I just thought they'd wait to kill me 'til I'd said what they wanted at that meeting," GB wept. "I've been hiding ever since then, expectin' 'em to find me, and . . . finish it. I'm sorry, Joby. I'm so sorry . . ."

"Hey," Joby said, coming to place a careful hand on GB's shoulder, unsure whether it would help or hurt to touch him while he was reliving this. "You did what you could to protect yourself. That's what I'd have wanted you to do. But that was weeks ago. If they were coming after you, wouldn't they have tried by now? Maybe you're okay."

"I don't know," GB said, swiping at his eyes, and dragging himself together. "He was pretty busy lookin' for what he wanted, and . . . and it got kind of physical," he added uncomfortably. "So maybe he was too busy to notice me in there lookin' back. Maybe-"

"Physical how?" Joby cut him off, his fury growing with each ugly revelation.

"It takes contact to get into another person's mind that way," GB said grimly. "Keepin' someone's arm cranked back works just as well as puttin' hands together."

"He tortured you?!" Joby yelled. "Physically?"

"They wanted you bad, Joby," GB said. "That's why I've been sayin', you gotta go up to that Garden Coast right now."

"No fucking way!" Joby exclaimed. "I'm not running off and letting them-"

"No!" GB shouted him down. "Joby, there's nothing you can do! They'll just deny it, and they've made everyone suspicious of you now. Besides, if I did get lucky, and they don't know what I saw, they sure will when you go howlin' back to town with it. You'll just get me killed for sure! Who you gonna go to, anyway? The cops? The school board? Why not just go to Hamilton?"

"This is fucked," said Joby, rubbing at his eyes as he began to pace.

"The point is, I know them now," GB said fiercely. "A lot of 'em anyway. Donaldson's head was full of their names. You asked me once if I knew what to do about it. Remember? That day we did the dandelion trick? Well, now I do. Now that we know who and where they really are, we can take Taubolt back and make it just the way it used to be. Without their hosts, the demons will be nothin' but a stink on the wind. Jake and the Council will be able to deal with 'em in an afternoon then. But we're not just talkin' about Donaldson and Hamilton. There's at least twenty or thirty more hosts hidden here in town. We've got to get them all at once, and we gotta do it totally alone, Joby. We go to anybody else with this, and nine to one, I'm roadkill before sunset. I need to know you understand that."

"I understand it," Joby said wearily. "I just got too angry to think straight for a minute, but I'm thinking now. So what's this plan of yours?"

"Good work," Lucifer said, setting down the list that Kallaystra had brought him.

Was that a compliment? she thought dryly. He really must be hard-pressed.

"Now I need you to find me five adolescent boys. No one of the blood, you understand, or known to Joby in the slightest. They must all be 'ognibs' as the vermin call them, and as new to Taubolt as you can find. I'm looking for vivid and violent imaginations, more than usual credulity, and serious delusions of grandeur."

"As you said," she smiled sweetly, "adolescent boys," thinking that any of Taubolt's numerous computer-gaming freaks would fit the bill quite nicely.

"Your task," he went on, "will be to convince them there is real magic hidden in Taubolt, and you need their help to save it. You have three weeks, though I'd prefer it sooner. Joby's still refusing me, but he's very brittle and could break at any moment. When he does, I don't want to give him any more time to think than necessary. Think you can handle the pace this time?" he asked severely.

"Of course," she said frostily. "Coming out of hiding is always simpler, especially when half of what I'm telling them is true. Once I've shown the magic to them, what's left for such ready minds to question? How should I describe the help I'm asking for?"

"Tell them that Taubolt's fairies, of which you are one, of course, are threatened by an invasion of demons." Lucifer smiled at last. "Explain that there's a spell that will defeat the demons, but it requires five mortal channels."

"I'll have them in three days." Kallaystra smirked. "They'll have had wet dreams that don't excite them half as much as this will."