Darkfall

every last corner of the room, and in those areas where there otherwise might have been a few thin shadows, there were clusters of burning candles, at least fifty of them in all.
    Hampton evidently saw that he was puzzled by the candles, for the big man said, “Tonight there are two kinds of darkness in this city, Lieutenant. First, there’s that darkness which is merely the absence of light. And then there’s that darkness which is the physical presence-the very manifestation-of the ultimate, Satanic evil. That second and malignant form of darkness feeds upon and cloaks itself in the first and more ordinary kind of darkness, cleverly disguises itself. But it’s out there! Therefore, I don’t wish to have shadows close to me this night, if I can avoid it, for one never knows when an innocent patch of shade might be something more than it appears.”
    Before this investigation, even as excessively open-minded as Jack had always been, he wouldn’t have taken Carver Hampton’s warning seriously. At best, he would have thought the man eccentric; at worst, a bit mad. Now, he didn’t for a moment doubt the sincerity or the accuracy of the Houngon ‘s statements. Unlike Hampton, Jack wasn’t afraid that the shadows themselves would suddenly leap at him and clutch him with insubstantial yet somehow deadly hands of darkness; however, after the things he had seen tonight, he couldn’t rule out even that bizarre possibility. Anyway, because of what might be hiding within the shadows, he, too, preferred bright light.
    “You look frozen,” Hampton said. “Give me your coat. I’ll hang it over the radiator to dry. Your gloves, too. Then sit down, and I’ll bring you some brandy.”
    “I don’t have time for brandy,” Jack said, leaving his coat buttoned and his gloves on. “I’ve got to find Lavelle. I-”
    “To find and stop Lavelle,” Hampton said, “you’ve got to be properly prepared. That’s going to take time.
    Only a fool would go rushing back out into that storm with only a half-baked idea of what to do and where to go. And you’re no fool, Lieutenant. So give me your coat. I can hop you, but it’s going to take longer than two minutes.“
    Jack sighed, struggled out of his heavy coat, and gave it to the Houngon .
    Minutes later, Jack was ensconced in one of the armchairs, holding a glass of Remy Martin in his cupped hands. He had taken off his shoes and socks and had put them by the radiator, too, for they had gotten thoroughly soaked by the snow that had gotten in over the tops of his boots as he’d waded through the drifts. For the first time all night, his feet began to feel warm.
    Hampton opened the gas jets in the fireplace, poked a long-stemmed match in among the ceramic logs, and flames whooshed up. He turned the gas high. “Not for the heat so much as to chase the darkness from the flue,” he said. He shook out the match, dropped it into a copper scuttle that stood on the hearth. He sat down in the other armchair, facing Jack across a coffee table on which were displayed two pieces of Lalique crystal-a clear bowl with green lizards for handles, and a tall frosted vase with a graceful neck. “If I’m to know how to proceed, you’ll have to tell me everything that-”
    “First, I’ve got some questions,” Jack said.
    “All right.”
    “Why wouldn’t you help me earlier today?”
    “I told you. I was scared.”
    “Aren’t you scared now?”
    “More than ever.”
    “Then why’re you willing to help me now?”
    “Guilt. I was ashamed of myself.”
    “It’s more than that.”
    “Well, yes. As a Houngon , you see, I routinely call upon the gods of Rada to perform feats for me, to fulfill blessings I bestow on my clients and on others I wish to help. And, of course, it’s the gods who make my magic potions work as intended. In return, it is incumbent upon me to resist evil, to strike against the agents of Congo and Pétro wherever I encounter them. Instead, for a while, I tried to hide from my responsibilities.”
    “If you had refused again to help me… would these benevolent gods of Rada continue to perform their feats for you and fulfill the blessings you bestow? Or would they abandon you and leave you without power?”
    “It’s highly unlikely they would abandon me.”
    “But possible?”
    “Remotely, yes.”
    “So, at least in some small degree, you’re also motivated by self-interest. Good. I like that. I’m comfortable with that.”
    Hampton lowered his