them； patches of darkness sprawled； so that for one pace out of every ten all was clarity； for the other nine； night。 Despite the fear clutching at his gut he ran all…out； the fence flickering past him。 Light； darkness； light； darknessAhead； a tableau resolved itself。 An intruder was standing on the far side of a light pool thrown down by one of the lamps。 The dogs were everywhere； at his heels； at his chest； snapping and tearing at him。 The man was still standing upright； legs apart； while they milled around him。
Marty now realized how close he was to witnessing a massacre。 The dogs were berserk； tearing at the intruder with all the fury they could muster。 Curiously； despite the venom in their attack； their tails were between their legs； and their low growls； as they circled looking for another opening； were unmistakably fearful。 Job； he saw； was not even attempting to pounce： he slunk around； his eyes closed to slits； watching the heroics of the rest。
Marty started calling them off by name； using the strong； simple mands Lillian had taught him。
〃Stand！ Saul！ Stand！ Dido！〃 The dogs were immaculately tutored： he'd seen them put through these exercises a dozen times。 Now； despite the intensity of their anger； they relinquished their victim when they heard the mand。 Reluctantly they fell back； ears flattened； teeth exposed； eyes clamped on the man。
Marty started to walk steadily toward the intruder； who was left standing in a ring of watchful dogs； reeling and bloody。 He carried no visible weapon； indeed he looked more like a derelict than a would…be assassin。 His plain dark jacket was torn in a dozen places by the attack； and where his skin was exposed blood shone。
〃Keep them 。 。 。 off me；〃 he said； his voice wounded。 There were bites all over his body。 In some places； particularly his legs； pieces of his flesh had been ripped away。 The middle finger of his left hand had been bitten through at the second joint； and was depending by a thread of sinew。 Blood splashed on the grass。 It amazed Marty that the man was even standing upright。
The dogs still circled him； ready to renew the assault if and when the order were granted； one or two of them glanced at Marty impatiently。 They were itching to finish their wounded victim off。 But the derelict wouldn't grant them a sign of his fear。 He only had eyes for Marty； and those eyes were pinpricks in livid white。
〃Don't move；〃 Marty said； 〃if you want to remain alive。 If you try to run they'll bring you down。 Do you understand？ I haven't got that much control over them。〃 The other said nothing； simply stared。 His agony； Marty knew； must be acute。 He wasn't even a young man。 His uneven growth of stubble showed more gray than black。 The skull behind the lax and waxen flesh was severe； the features set on it used and weary： tragic even。 His suffering was only apparent in the greasy sheen of his skin； and the fixedness of his facial muscles。 His stare had the stillness of a hurricane's eye； and its menace。
〃How did you get in？〃 Marty asked。
〃Get them away；〃 the man said。 He spoke as if he expected to be obeyed。
〃e back to the house with me。〃 The other shook his head； unwilling even to debate the possibility。
〃Get them away；〃 he said again。
Marty conceded to the other's authority； though not certain why。 He called the dogs to him by name。 They came to heel with rebuking looks； unhappy to surrender their prize。
〃Now e back to the house；〃 Marty said。
〃No need。〃 〃You'll bleed to death； for God's sake。〃 〃I loathe dogs；〃 the man said； still not taking his eyes off Marty。 〃We both do。〃 Marty hadn't time to think clearly about what the man was saying； he just wanted to stop the situation from escalating again。 Blood loss had surely weakened the man。 If he fell down Marty wasn't certain he could prevent the dogs from going in for the kill。 They were around his legs； glancing up at him irritably； their breath was hot on him。
〃If you don't e on your own accord； I'll take you。〃 〃No。〃 The intruder raised his injured hand to chest height and glanced down at it。 〃I don't need your kindnesses； thank you；〃 he said。
He bit down on the sinew of the mutilated finger； as a seamstress might through a thread。 The discarded joints fell to the grass。 Then he clenched his seeping hand into a fist； and thrust it into his ravaged jacket。
Marty said： 〃Christ Almighty。〃 Suddenly the lights along the fence were flickering again。 Only this time they went out altogether。 In the sudden pitch； Saul whined。 Marty knew the dog's voice； and shared his apprehension。
〃What's happening； boy？〃 he asked the dog； wishing to God it could reply。 And then the dark broke； something lit the scene that was neither electricity nor starlight。 The intruder was the source。 He'd begun to burn with a faint luminescence。 Light was dripping from his fingertips and oozing from the bloody holes in his coat。 It enveloped his head in a flickering gray halo that consumed neither flesh nor bone； the light licking out of mouth and eyes and nostrils。 Now it began to take on shapes； or seemed to。 It was all seems。 Phantoms sprang from the flux of light。 Marty glimpsed dogs； then a woman； then a face； all； and yet perhaps none of these； a flurry of apparitions that transformed before they congealed。 And in the center of these momentary phenomena the intruder's eyes stared on at Marty： clear and cold。
Then； without a prehensible cue； the entertainment took on a different tone altogether。 A look of anguish slid across the fabricator's face； a drool of bloody darkness spilled from his eyes； extinguishing whatever played in the vapor； leaving only bright worms of fire to trace his skull。 Then they too went out； and just as suddenly as the illusions had appeared； they were gone； and there was just a torn man standing beside the humming fence。
The lights were ing back on again； their illumination so flat it drained any last vestige of magic。 Marty looked at the bland flesh； the empty eyes； the sheer drabness of the figure in front of him and believed none of it 〃Tell Joseph；〃 said the intruder。
…it had all been trickery of some kind…〃Tell him what？〃 〃That I was here。〃 …but if it was just trickery； why didn't he step forward and apprehend the man？
〃Who are you？〃 he asked。
〃Just tell him。 〃 Marty nodded； he had no courage left in him 〃Then； go home。〃 〃Home？〃 〃Away from here；〃 the intruder said。 〃Out of harm's way。〃 He turned from Marty and the dogs； and as he did so the lights faltered and failed for several dozen yards in either direction。
When they came back on again； the magician had gone。
27
〃Is that all he said？〃 As ever； Whitehead had his back to Marty as he spoke； and it was Impossible to gauge his response to the account of the night's events。 Marty had offered a carefully doctored description of what had actually happened。 He'd told Whitehead about his hearing the dogs and about the chase and the brief conversation he'd had with the intruder。 What he'd left out was the part that he couldn't explain： the images the man had seemingly conjured from his body。 That he made no attempt to describe； or even report。 He'd simply told the old man that the lights along the fence had failed and that under the cover of darkness the intruder had made off。 It made a lame finale to the encounter but he had no powers to improve on his story。 His mind； still juggling the visions of the previous night； was too uncertain of objective truth to contemplate a more elaborate lie。
He hadn't slept for over twenty…four hours now。 He'd spent the bulk of the night checking the perimeter； scouring the fence for the place the intruder had breached。 There was no break in the wire； however。 Either the man had slipped into the grounds when the gates were opened for one of the guests〃 cars； which was plausible； or else he had scaled the fence； disregarding an electric charge that would have struck most men dead。 Having seen the tricks the man was capable of Marty was not about to discount this second scenario。 After all； this same man had rendered the alarms inoperative…and somehow drained the lights of power along the stretch of fence。 How he'd achieved these fe