"Sometimes. Why?"

"Then forgive me. I argued with a woman today, a woman named De Ville."

"What about?"

"You-and she accused me of such things it were bet- ter my mother bad not born me. Are you going to marry her?"

"No, marriage is like alchemy. It served an important purpose once, but I hardly feel it's here to stay."

"Good."

"What did you say to her?"

"I gave her a clinic referral card that said, 'Diagnosis:

Bitch. Prescription: Drug therapy and a tight gag.' "

"Oh," said Render, showing interest.

"She tore it up and threw it in my face."

"I wonder why?"

She shrugged, smiled, made a gridwork on the table- cloth.

" 'Fathers and elders, I ponder,' *' sighed Render, " 'what is hell?' "

" 'I maintain it is the suffering of being unable to love,* " she finished. "Was Dostoevsky right?"

"I doubt it I'd put him into group therapy myself.

That'd be real hell for him-with all those people acting like his characters and enjoying it so."

Render put down his cup and pushed his chair away from the table.

"I suppose you must be going now?"

"I really should," said Render.

"And I can't interest you in food?"

"No."

She stood.

"Okay, I'll get my coat."

"I could drive back myself and just set the car to re- turn."

"No! I*m frightened by the notion of empty cars driving around the city. I'd feel the thing was haunted for the next two-and-a-half weeks.

"Besides," she said, passing through the archway, "you promised me Winchester Cathedral."

"You want to do it today?"

"If you can be persuaded."

As Render stood deciding, Sigmund rose to his feet. He stood directly before him and stared upward into his eyes.

104 .

He opened his mouth and closed it, several times, but no sounds emerged. Then he turned away and left the room.

"No," Eileen's voice came back, "you will stay here until I return."

Render picked up his coat and put it on, stuffing the medkit into the far pocket.

As they walked up the hall toward the elevator Render thought he heard a very faint and very distant howling sound.

In this place, of all places. Render knew he was the mas- ter of all things,

He was at home on those alien worlds, without time, those worlds where flowers copulate and the stars do bat- tle in the heavens, falling at last to the ground, bleeding, like so many split and shattered chalices, and the seas part to reveal stairways leading down, and arms emerge from caverns, waving torches that flame like liquid faces-a midwinter night's nightmare, summer go a-begging. Render know-for he had visited those worlds on a professional basis for the better part of a decade.

With the crooking of a finger he could isolate the sor- cerors, bring them to trial for treason against the realm -aye, and he could execute them, could appoint their successors.

Fortunately, this trip was only a courtesy call . . ,

He moved forward through the glade, seeking her.

He could feel her awakening presence all about him.

He pushed through the branches, stood beside the lake.

It was cold, blue, and bottomless, the lake, reflecting that slender willow which 'had become the station of her arrival.

"Eileeni"

The willow swayed toward him, swayed away,

"Eileen! Come forth!"

Leaves fell, floated upon the lake, disturbed its mirror- like placidity, distorted the reflections.

"Eileen?"

All the leaves yellowed at once then, dropped down into the water. The tree ceased its swaying. There was a strange sound in the darkening sky, like the humming of high wires on a cold day.

105.

Suddenly there was a double file of moons passing *hrough the heavens.