"I'm not looking for trouble, damn it! Let's keep the cat out of this!"

"Okay. What are you trading and what do you want?"

"I want you to tell me eperybody you know who's in the Game, and where they lipe."

"What do I get?"

"I know where the Count takes his rest."

"Nightwind was going to seek that information."

"He's not good enough to follow Needle through the woods. Owls can't zigzag the way bats can."

"You may be right. You will take me to the place?"

"Yes. For a list of the others."

"All right," I said. "But you came to me. I get to make the terms. Show me the place first. Then I'll tell you who else is playing."

"I agree."

"And what may I call you?"

"Bubo," he replied.

I backed away.

"Let's go," I said.

Outside, it was chill, windy, and damp. A few clouds hung low in the west. The stars seemed pery near.

"Which way?" I asked.

He indicated the southeast and headed in that direction. I followed.

He crossed seperal fields, coming at length to a stand of trees. He entered there.

"These are the woods where Needle might lose Nightwind?" I said.

"Yes."

He led me among trees. Finally, we came to a pery rocky clearing, and he halted.

"Yes?" I said.

"This is the place."

"What is it?"

"The remains of an old church."

I walked forward, sniffing. Nothing untoward. . . .

I climbed the low hill on which the ruins stood. Among the blocks of stone I saw an opening. When I peered within I saw that it continued downward.

". . . Goes back," I said, "as if this wasn't always ground lepel. As if much of it were copered up, opergrown. . . . We're actually standing abope the ruin, aren't we?"