


Young Sam was already grinning widely and crowing along with the plot.Įventually, the cow would be found. Then the author began to get to grips with their material:Īt this point the author had reached an agony of creation and was writing from the racked depths of their soul. The unidentified complainant had lost their cow. The pages of said book were rounded and soft where Young Sam had chewed them, but to one person in this nursery this was the book of books, the greatest story ever told.

“And now,” said the watchman, “get out of town.” The Summoning Dark backed desperately into the alley, but the light followed it, burning it. I am here to keep it in.” There was a clink of metal as the shadowy watchman lifted a dark lantern and opened its little door. “And so he should,” said the entity, with satisfaction. “What kind of human creates his own policeman?” You will not force him to murder for you.” Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who watches the watchmen? Me. “Think of the deaths they have caused! Who are you to stop me?” “They would have killed his family!” The darkness lunged, and met resistance. “I am the Summoning Dark.” It was not, in fact, a sound, but had it been, it would have been a hiss. The entity stirred, like an old fish in a deep pool. Then the match was dropped on the cobbles, where it hissed out, and the figure said: “What are you?” Water cascaded off a metal helmet and an oiled leather cloak as the figure stopped and, entirely unconcerned, cupped its had in front of its face and lit a cigar. In the darkness of the inner city, above the rustle of the never-ending rain, it heard the sound of boots approaching. Animals! Birds! Changing shape! Screaming and yelling! And, above it all, higher than the rooftops, a lamb rocking back and forth in great slow motions, thundering over the cobbles…Īnd then bars had come down, slamming down, and the entity had been thrown back.īut it had been so close! It had saved the creature, it was getting through, it was beginning to have control… and now this… The entity cowered in its alley, where the mist was rising. But within it, a city, shadowy and only real in certain ways.
