We took a walk last night, acquiring mandrake root in a field far from here at the place of a killing by somebody else. The master wrapped it in silk and took it to his work space direct. I could hear him engage in good-natured banter with the Thing in the Circle. Jack has a long list of ingredients, and things must be done properly on schedule.

The cat Graymalk came slinking about, pussyfoot, peering in our windows. Ordinarily, I have little against cats. I can take them or leave them, I mean. But Graymalk belongs to Crazy Jill who lives over the hill, in towards town, and Graymalk was spying for her mistress, of course. I growled to let her know she had been spotted.

«About your watching early, faithful Snuff,» she hissed.

«About your spying early,» I responded, «Gray.»

«We have our tasks.»

«We do.»

«And so it has begun.»

«It has.»

«Goes it well?»

«So far. And you?»

«The same. I suppose it is easiest simply to ask this way, for now.»

«… But cats are sneaky,» I added.

She tossed her head, raised a paw and studied it.

«There are certain pleasures to be had in lurking.»

«For cats,» I said.

«… And certain knowledges gained.»

«Such as … ?»

«I am not the first come calling here today. My predecessor left traces. Are you aware of this, faithful watcher?»