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They ran. They began to fall with each step, but again and again and again steps came in place and saved them and ran them taller so the shadow of the spires loomed tall across rivers and fields to snuff the last witch fires at crossroads. Crones, hags, wise men, demon lovers, a thousand miles off, snuffed like candles, whiffed to smoke, wailed and sank to hide as the church leaned, tilted across the heavens.

"So even as the Romans cut down druid trees and chopped their God of the Dead to fall, we now with this church, boys, cast such a shadow as knocks all witches off their stilts, and puts seedy sorcerers and trite magicians to heel. No more small witch fires. Only this great lit candle, Notre-Dame. Presto!"

The boys laughed with delight.

For the last step fell in place.

They had reached the top, gasping.

Notre-Dame cathedral was finished and built.

Bong!

The last soft hour was struck.

The great bronze bell shuddered.

And hung empty.

The boys leaned to peer into its cavernous mouth.

There was no clapper inside shaped like Pipkin.

"Pipkin?" they whispered.

"...kin," echoed the bell in a small echo.

"He's here somewhere. Up there in the air, meet him's what he promised. And Pipkin falls back on no promises," said Moundshroud. "Look about, boys. Fine handiwork, eh? Centuries of toil done in a fast gallop and sneeze, right? But, ah, ah, something beside Pipkin's missing. What? Glance up. Scan 'round. Eh?"

The boys peered. They puzzled.

"Er--"

"Don't the place look awful plain, boys? Awful untouched and unornamented?"

"Gargoyles!"

Everyone turned to look at...

Wally Babb, who was dressed as a Gargoyle for Halloween. His face fairly beamed with revelation.

"Gargoyles. The place's got no gargoyles."

"Gargoyles." Moundshroud uttered and ululated and beautifully ribboned the word with his lizardy tongue. "Gargoyles. Shall we put them on, boys?"

"How?"

"Why I should think we could whistle them in place. Whistle for demons, boys, whistle for fiends, give a high great tootling blow for beasties and ferocious fanged loomers of the dark."

Wally Babb sucked in a great breath. "Here's mine!"

He whistled.

All whistled.

And the gargoyles?

They came running.