torturing and maiming their fellow humans since the dawn of time—sometimes in the name of Satan, and sometimes even in the name of God.
But this was probably a fabrication, and exaggeration. And even if it wasn’t, this wacko had probably moved on by now, as Steve suspected. He could really get lost in the thick forests of New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine.
And he was probably jumping to conclusions about Todd. The boy had probably been frightened by the dark, and by his own imagination. Still, Dovecrest troubled him. Something about the Indian just wasn’t right.
He decided to ask his son some specific questions as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He also decided to do a little research on his own about this devil worship crap. If nothing else, he could use it in one of his horror stories. And while he was at it, he intended to check out this Dovecrest character.
He intended to find out everything he could about the place where he now lived, just for his own piece of mind.
-2-
“Do you want to go out, Faith?”
The cat looked up at the woman-who-feeds and scratched again. The woman-who-feeds obediently opened the door and Faith strolled out into the back yard as if she had all the time in the world—which, in fact, she did. The sunshine felt good, and she dropped to the warm cement of the patio and began to roll, both scratching her back and heating it at the same time. She opened her legs to let the hot afternoon sun beat on her belly before she ventured off to explore new territory. Finally, satisfied with the sun worship, she rolled back onto her feet and sniffed the strange air.
The smells here were different, very different from those of her previous territory. She’d spent yesterday growing accustomed to the new house, marking it with the scent of her fur as she rubbed against the walls and doors and exploring every closet and nook for possible rats, crickets, or other quick, scurrying creatures. To her immense disappointment, the house was completely empty, brand new, and sterile. Her previous house had provided plenty of crickets for her to play with, and even the occasional mouse, which she would torment until it died and then she’d offer it to The Woman Who Feeds as a gift of appreciation. Although the woman never accepted the gift, she always praised her lavishly and gave her special treats in return, so mice were especially prized.
Since this house had offered no challenge to her superior hunting skills, her instincts took her outside. Here, surely, she could find an interesting plaything. Besides, the time had come for her to mark off this new territory as her own.
The air was remarkably clear here, full of many different scents. The city had provided only a thick, dirty smell, which had masked all but the nearest competing scents. This place offered a kaleidoscope of ever changing smells, all waiting to be explored.
The sounds, also, were different. She distinguished the chirps and songs of a number of different kinds of birds, as well as the chorus of millions of insects, and even the sounds of small toads and other animals. She knew the toads and left them alone, just like you didn’t mess with a skunk. But many of the sounds were new and demanded investigation. She licked her lips in anticipation as she moved her eyes quickly back and forth across her yard, seeking the slightest hint of motion. She’d stiffened her tail straight into the air to show the world that this place belonged to her, and when she saw nothing of particular interest scurrying though the grass, she began the methodical task of marking her territory.
She hadn’t detected the scents of any competing cats, so the area, in essence, did belong to her already. Still, instinct declared that she must claim her own turf and she obediently followed that higher command.
She began with a small tree, first by rubbing the side of her head against the rough bark to leave her fur scent behind, then by clawing the trunk
But this was probably a fabrication, and exaggeration. And even if it wasn’t, this wacko had probably moved on by now, as Steve suspected. He could really get lost in the thick forests of New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine.
And he was probably jumping to conclusions about Todd. The boy had probably been frightened by the dark, and by his own imagination. Still, Dovecrest troubled him. Something about the Indian just wasn’t right.
He decided to ask his son some specific questions as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He also decided to do a little research on his own about this devil worship crap. If nothing else, he could use it in one of his horror stories. And while he was at it, he intended to check out this Dovecrest character.
He intended to find out everything he could about the place where he now lived, just for his own piece of mind.
-2-
“Do you want to go out, Faith?”
The cat looked up at the woman-who-feeds and scratched again. The woman-who-feeds obediently opened the door and Faith strolled out into the back yard as if she had all the time in the world—which, in fact, she did. The sunshine felt good, and she dropped to the warm cement of the patio and began to roll, both scratching her back and heating it at the same time. She opened her legs to let the hot afternoon sun beat on her belly before she ventured off to explore new territory. Finally, satisfied with the sun worship, she rolled back onto her feet and sniffed the strange air.
The smells here were different, very different from those of her previous territory. She’d spent yesterday growing accustomed to the new house, marking it with the scent of her fur as she rubbed against the walls and doors and exploring every closet and nook for possible rats, crickets, or other quick, scurrying creatures. To her immense disappointment, the house was completely empty, brand new, and sterile. Her previous house had provided plenty of crickets for her to play with, and even the occasional mouse, which she would torment until it died and then she’d offer it to The Woman Who Feeds as a gift of appreciation. Although the woman never accepted the gift, she always praised her lavishly and gave her special treats in return, so mice were especially prized.
Since this house had offered no challenge to her superior hunting skills, her instincts took her outside. Here, surely, she could find an interesting plaything. Besides, the time had come for her to mark off this new territory as her own.
The air was remarkably clear here, full of many different scents. The city had provided only a thick, dirty smell, which had masked all but the nearest competing scents. This place offered a kaleidoscope of ever changing smells, all waiting to be explored.
The sounds, also, were different. She distinguished the chirps and songs of a number of different kinds of birds, as well as the chorus of millions of insects, and even the sounds of small toads and other animals. She knew the toads and left them alone, just like you didn’t mess with a skunk. But many of the sounds were new and demanded investigation. She licked her lips in anticipation as she moved her eyes quickly back and forth across her yard, seeking the slightest hint of motion. She’d stiffened her tail straight into the air to show the world that this place belonged to her, and when she saw nothing of particular interest scurrying though the grass, she began the methodical task of marking her territory.
She hadn’t detected the scents of any competing cats, so the area, in essence, did belong to her already. Still, instinct declared that she must claim her own turf and she obediently followed that higher command.
She began with a small tree, first by rubbing the side of her head against the rough bark to leave her fur scent behind, then by clawing the trunk
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