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"And you? What do you think, or should I say suspect?"

"I honestly don't know. Sometimes I think I've spent my life being the dupe of others. I think they will come soon and I will die, just the way the two doctors did. And you mustn't do anything if that should happen. There is nothing you can do. At other times I don't believe the Order is anything but a group of old scholars, gathering information that others would destroy. I cannot believe it had an occult purpose! I cannot. I believe we will discover that Stolov and Norgan made the decision to breed the being. That when the medical information fell into their hands, they saw something they couldn't resist. Must have been rather like it was for Rowan. Seeing this medical miracle. Must have been what she felt when she took the being out of this house. 'Scholars will but nourish evil. Scientists would raise it high.'

"Yes, perhaps so. They happened upon a dangerous and useful discovery. They broke faith with the others. They lied to the Elders. I don't know. I'm not part of it anymore. I'm outside. Whatever is discovered, it won't be made known to me."

"But Yuri? Could they hurt him?"

Aaron gave a discouraged sigh.

"They've taken him back. Or so they say. He isn't afraid of them, that's certain. He has gone back to London to face them. I think he thinks he can care for himself."

Michael thought of Yuri--of their brief acquaintance--not in terms of one picture, but many, and an overall impression of innocence and shrewdness and strength.

"I am not so worried," said Aaron. "Mainly because of Mona. He wants to come back to Mona. Therefore he'll be more careful. For her sake."

Michael smiled and nodded. "Makes sense."

"I hope he finds the answer. It's his obsession now, the Order, the mystery of the Elders, the purpose. But then maybe Mona will save him. As Beatrice saved me. Strange, isn't it, the power of this family? The power that they possess that has nothing whatsoever to do with...him."

"And Stolov and Norgan? Will someone come looking for them?"

"No. Put that out of your mind too. Yuri will take care of it. There is no evidence here of either man. No one will come looking, asking. You'll see."

"You seem very resigned but you're not happy," said Michael.

"Well, I think it's a bit early to be happy," said Aaron softly. "But I'm a damned sight happier than I was before." He thought for a moment. "I am not ready to sweep away all the beliefs of a lifetime because two men did evil things."

"Lasher told you," said Michael. "He told you it was the purpose of the Order."

"Ah, he did. But that was long long ago. That was in another time when men believed in things that they do not believe in now."

"Yes, I suppose it was."

Aaron sighed and gave a graceful shrug.

"Yuri will find out. Yuri will come back."

"But you're not really afraid they'll hurt you, if they are the bad guys, I mean."

"No," said Aaron. "I don't think they will bother. I do know them...somewhat...after all these years."

Michael made no answer.

"And I know I am no longer a part of them," Aaron continued, "in any conceivable way. I know that this is my home. I know I am married and I will stay with Bea and this is my family. And perhaps...perhaps...as for the rest of it...the Talamasca, its secrets, its purposes...perhaps...I don't care. Perhaps I stopped caring on Christmas when Rowan lost the first round of her battle. Perhaps I ceased to care altogether and for certain when I saw Rowan on the stretcher, and her face blank, her mind gone. I don't care. And when I don't care about something, in an odd way, I can be as determined about it as about anything else."

"Why didn't you call the police about Stolov and Norgan?"

Aaron seemed surprised. "You know the answer," he said. "I owed you that much, don't you think? Let me give you some of my serenity. Besides, Mona and Yuri made the decision, really. I was a bit too dazed to take credit. We did the simpler thing. As a rule of thumb, always do the simpler thing."

"The simpler thing."

"Yes, what you did to Lasher. The simpler thing."

Michael didn't answer.

"There is so much to be done," said Aaron. "The family doesn't realize that it is safe, but it soon will. There will be many subtle changes as people come to realize that it's finished. That the blinds are really open and the sun can really come in."

"Yes."

"We will get doctors for Rowan. We will get the best. Ah, I meant to bring a tape with me, the Canon by Pachelbel. Bea said Rowan loved it, that one day they had played it when Rowan was at Bea's. Bea's. I'm speaking of my own home."

"Did you believe all he said--about the Taltos, about the legends and the little people?"

"Yes. And no."

Aaron thought for a long moment, then he added:

"I want no more mysteries or puzzles." He seemed amazed at his own calm. "I want only to be with my family. I want for Deirdre Mayfair to forgive me for not helping her; for Rowan Mayfair to forgive me for letting this happen to her. I want you to forgive me for letting you be hurt, for letting the burden of the killing fall upon you. And then I want, as they say, to forget."

"The family won," said Michael. "Julien won."

"You won," said Aaron. "And Mona has just begun her victories," he said with a little smile. "Quite a daughter you have in Mona. I think I'll walk uptown to see Mona. She says she is so in love with Yuri that if he doesn't call by midnight, she may go mad! Mad as Ophelia went mad. I have to see Vivian and visit with Ancient Evelyn. Would you like to come? It's a beautiful walk up the Avenue, just the right length, about ten blocks."

"Not now. A little later perhaps. You go on." There was a pause.

"They want you up at Amelia Street," said Aaron. "Mona is hoping you will guide the restorations. The place hasn't been tampered with in many a year."

"It's beautiful. I've seen it."

"It needs you."

"Sounds like something I can handle. You go on."

The rain came again the next morning. Michael was sitting under the oak outside, near the freshly turned earth, merely looking at it, looking at the torn-up grass.

Ryan came out to talk to him, staying carefully to the path not to get mud on his shoes. Michael could see it was nothing urgent. Ryan looked rested. It was as if Ryan could sense that things were over. Ryan ought to know.

Ryan didn't even glance at the big patch of earth above the grave. It all looked like the moist and sparse earth around the roots of a big tree where grass would not grow.

"I have to tell you something," said Michael.

He saw Ryan stop--a sudden revelation of weariness and fear--then catch up with himself and very slowly nod.

"There's no danger anymore," Michael said. "From anyone now. You can pull off the guards. One nurse in the evenings. That is all we require. Get rid of Henri too, if you would. Pension him off or something. Or send him up to Mona's place."

Ryan said nothing, then he nodded again.

"I leave it to you, how you tell

the others," said Michael. "But they should know. The danger's past. No more women will suffer. No more doctors will die. Not in connection with this. You may hear again from the Talamasca. If you do, you can send them to me. I don't want the women to go on being frightened. Nothing will happen. They are safe. As for those doctors who died, I know nothing that would help. Absolutely nothing at all."

Ryan seemed about to ask a question, but then he thought better of it, obviously, and he nodded again.

"I'll take care of it," Ryan said. "You needn't worry about any of those things. I'll take care of the question of the doctors. And that is a very good suggestion, regarding Henri. I will send him uptown. Patrick will just have to put up with it. He's in no condition to argue, I suppose. I came out to see how you were. Now I know that you are all right."

It was Michael's turn to nod. He gave a little smile.

After lunch, he sat again by Rowan's bed. He had sent the nurse away. He couldn't stand her presence any longer. He wanted to be here alone. And she had hinted heavily that she needed to visit her own sick mother at Touro Infirmary, and he said, "Things are just fine around here. You go on. Come back at six o'clock."

She'd been so grateful. He stood by the window watching her walk away. She lit a cigarette before she reached the corner, then hurried off to catch the car.

There was a tall young woman standing out there, gazing at the house, her hands on the fence. Reddish-golden hair, very long, kind of pretty. But she was like so many women now, bone-thin. Maybe one of the cousins, come to pay her respects. He hoped not. He moved away from the window. If she rang the bell, he wouldn't answer. It felt too good to be alone at last.

He went back to the chair and sat down.

The gun lay on the marble-top table, big and sort of ugly or beautiful, depending on how one feels about guns. They were no enemy to him. But he didn't like it there, because he had a vision of taking it and shooting himself with it, and then he stared at Rowan, and thought: "No, not as long as you need me, honey, I won't. Not before something happens..." He stopped.

He wondered if she could sense anything, anything at all.