"What's the matter, if it's not impolite to ask?"
"Just nervous exhaustion," Madeline said, a slight tremor in her voice. "Things. . just started to catch up with me. I. . well, I just passed out in the lab. God, I do feel silly. I'll be out tomorrow."
"To rest, I trust."
She nodded. For the first time, she looked directly into my eyes. "You look like you need a-" She suddenly gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "The little girl! How is the little girl?"
"She's still dying, Mad; I'm still working on it, and I'm still short on time. Now it may be down to a matter of hours-or even minutes. At the moment, I'm scraping the bottom of the miracle barrel with a psychic healer who's trying to keep her alive long enough for someone to find out what's wrong with her."
"You shouldn't have taken the time to come and see me," she said hoarsely.
I took a deep breath and started to reach inside my jacket pocket for the horoscope Jake had given me. Mad suddenly reached out and grasped my hand. '"What happened to your thumb?"
"It was gnawed on by a rabid bat."
Mad's eyes widened. "You're joking!"
"Nope. It just happened to be winging its way around my bedroom in the middle of the night. I have a strong suspicion that it didn't mosey in by itself. I don't suppose any of your mysterious friends keep rabid bats around the house, do they?"
Madeline looked at me a long time. I watched in horrified fascination as her face suddenly fell apart and she started to giggle in a high-pitched, girlish voice that frightened me. Then, without warning, the giggles abruptly turned to racking sobs. She turned her face away and buried it in the pillow. Uncertain of what to do, I tentatively reached out and touched her shoulder. Gradually her sobbing eased. She groped toward her nightstand and found a Kleenex. She wiped her eyes, then blew her nose.
"I'm sorry, Mongo," Mad said in a harsh, strained voice. "I guess you can see why I'm here."
"Hey, babe, I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. "I shouldn't be here asking you questions. I wouldn't be bothering you if I wasn't running out of time."
"I know," she said quietly. "And your question was perfectly reasonable. For the past few years I have been spending a lot of time with some very strange people. It's-" She started to sob again, but quickly brought herself under control. "It can be so evil."
"Is that why you're here, Mad? Did this occult business finally get to you?"
I thought she took a long time to answer. Finally she lifted her eyes again and looked directly into mine. "I don't know, Mongo; I honestly don't know. I am a scientist, and most of my scientific colleagues consider-or would consider, if they knew about it-my interest in the occult idiotic. After a while, I suppose, the internal pressure starts to build. You begin to doubt, to wonder just what it is you're doing. You start thinking that maybe it is all superstition, and that you're a fool."
It was time. I cleared my throat, said, "You seem to have been right on target with at least one of your astrology clients."
Something like a shadow muddied the surface of her pale blue eyes. "What do you mean?" Mad asked breathlessly.
I removed the horoscope from my pocket and handed it to her. Mad glanced at the paper and grew even paler. She slowly crushed the paper in her fist and screwed her eyes shut. Tears oozed from beneath her lids, slowly trickled down her cheeks like tiny, transparent slugs. "Where did you get this?"
"Bobby's agent," I said, touching her arm again. "Believe me, Mad; I wouldn't be asking you about this if it weren't for the child."
Madeline slowly opened her eyes and stared at me. "What does this horoscope have to do with the little girl?" she asked in a strangled whisper.
"Bobby's dead from an overdose of drugs. I found him this morning. He'd been going downhill for months, and it very much looks like he was involved with Esobus. He was definitely into witchcraft, and he had a book of shadows that mentioned Esobus' name. Bobby may have killed himself, but I'm certain someone gave him a good push to get started."
Madeline swallowed hard. "And, of course, you want to know why I lied to you about not being in contact with Bobby since he left the university." It wasn't a question.
"I want to know anything you can tell me-anything you may have left out the last time we talked that might lead me to Esobus. If you're frightened, I understand; I've seen enough of the wreckage Esobus leaves in his wake to understand why people are afraid of him. I'll keep anything you tell me in absolute confidence."
She bit her lower lip and slowly shook her head. "I really don't know any more than I've already told you, Mongo. I was ashamed to tell you about. . this. I knew what had been happening to Bobby since I cast that horoscope. I guess I was afraid you'd think. . I was the one who'd given him a push. I just wasn't thinking clearly."
I grunted noncommittally. "It looks like Bobby created a self-fulfilling prophecy from that piece of paper you gave him."
Madeline shook her head again, this time more vehemently. "No, Mongo. The trend was there right from the beginning, exactly as I interpreted it. Please believe me; I saw how his life was about to change, and I hoped the horoscope would serve as a warning to alter his living patterns." She passed a trembling hand over her eyes. "Bobby didn't take it seriously."
"Can you interpret that horoscope for me exactly as you did for him?"
Madeline hesitated, then finally nodded. She slowly smoothed out the crumpled paper. "The inner circle is the natal horoscope," she said wearily. "It represents the positions of the sun, moon and planets at the time of Bobby's birth. It shows a strong talent in art or music, with the talent used in a superficial, popular vein. The chart indicates considerable success."
Again she swallowed hard. I poured her a glass of water from a covered carafe on the nightstand. She drank it down, smiled shyly. Her eyes seemed clearer. "The outer circle is a synthesis," she continued in a stronger voice. "It's the horoscope projected up to the time when Bobby came to see me, and extrapolated into the future. Saturn-an evil, tearing influence-is in the worst possible conjunction with the other planets. There's a bad grouping in Scorpio-the sign of the occult. And there are a number of other afflictions indicated, including a bad conjunction in what we call the 'house of the secret enemy.' Bobby had reached a critical, very dangerous crossroads in his life. That's what … I told him."
She took a deep, shuddering breath, then carefully folded the paper into a small square and dropped it on the nightstand. "It was accurate," she whispered. "Deadly accurate."
"Mad," I asked quietly, "how did Bobby find out that you were an astrologer?" "John Krowl recommended me to him. Bobby had become one of John's clients."
"How long had Bobby known Krowl before he came to you?"
"I don't know," Madeline said softly.
"Maybe Krowl was the 'secret enemy' you saw in Bobby's horoscope."
"Maybe," she said, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.
"What do you think?"
She rolled her eyes toward me without turning her head. "Why do you ask me that, Mongo?"
"Could Krowl be a member of Esobus' coven?"
"I'd have no way of knowing the answer to that question. If he were a member, he'd never even drop a hint to an outsider."
"What about Bobby? Could he have been a member?"
Mad shook her head. "That would be impossible. If there is such a supercoven, all of the members would be ceremonial magicians-like Esobus."
"So much for your Wizard of Oz theory, Mad. Esobus definitely exists."
"The Wizard of Oz is dead," she said in a dry, quaking voice.
There didn't seem any more to be gained by talking to Madeline. In fact, it appeared I'd accomplished nothing but managing to further upset a sick friend. "I'm sorry I bothered you, babe," I said, placing a yellow rose from the vase on the pillow next to her head.