'What's wrong?' he said hoarsely. 'What have you found out?'
   Thaddeus said, 'We spent four hours at the university library. We found out more about 
Rufus King than anybody has a right to know.'
   'And?'
   'Here, man,' said Thaddeus, and helped John to prop up his head on the pillow.
   'I'm fine,' John insisted. 'What did you find out?'
   Thaddeus said, 'We found out that Rufus King had a good friend in Salem, 
Massachusetts, a man called David Barlow who was the owner of a shipping line, spices 
from the Orient, that kind of trade. And we also found out that David Barlow was the 
owner of a shepherd's crook that was supposed to have belonged to Moses, and which Moses 
had used as a walking-stick during the exodus from Egypt.'
   'Go on,' John urged him.
   Thaddeus said, 'This is all very sketchy. But it seems David Barlow's grandfather 
Josiah Barlow had bought the stick in Jidda, Saudi Arabia, at the time of the Salem witch 
trials. His intention was to bring it back to Salem to exorcise the devilry that was 
going on there. It seems he paid a whole lot of money for it, nearly two thousand 
dollars' worth of gold. Big deal in those days.'
   'And did he get his money's worth?' asked John.
   'Well... it seems so. As soon as he brought it back to Salem, the witch trial hysteria 
collapsed, and the whole business came to an end.'
   John said nothing, but waited for Thaddeus to continue.
   Thaddeus said, 'That shepherd's crook, that stick, that staff - well, it was kept at 
the Barlow family home, right up until 1787. Then Rufus King came and took it, and 
brought it here to Philadelphia. According to the Barlow family records, nobody knew why. 
But whatever he brought it here for, it stayed here; and eventually it was given to the 
American Philosophical Society on Fifth Street, who kept it in their library; and then it 
was passed to the Conservation Center for Art and Historic Artifacts, whose curators 
didn't really believe it was authentic, so they stored it in their cellars on Broad 
Street.'
   'What happened to it then?' asked John.
   Thaddeus looked glum. 'Two suspended police detectives of mixed racial origin arrived 
at the Conservation Center and asked to see the said shepherd's crook, stick, or staff; 
and the gullible curators allowed them to take it away on loan.'
   Norman, with a suddenly breaking smile, lifted in his right hand a dark staff of 
polished wood with a slightly curving top; wood from an olive tree, but centuries old, 
weathered and battered and polished by the touch of countless human hands.
   The shepherd's crook on which an aging Moses was supposed to have leaned as he led the 
children of Israel out of Egypt into the Promised Land. Thy rod, Thy staff.
   John stared at it as Norman brought it closer. He couldn't reach out to touch it, he 
didn't have the power, but he could feel its magnetism. Tears sprang into his eyes.
   'You found it, you bastards. You actually found it.'
   'We're detectives,' said Thaddeus smugly.
   'Do you think it's going to work?' asked John.
   'Who knows? We're not exactly sure what Rufus King did. But your guess was probably 
right. He used Night Warriors to flush the shadow-creature out of Nathan Grant's dreams; 
then, when it took on physical form, he used this stick to zap it for good.'
   John's eyes ran from one end of the ancient stick to the other. 'God Almighty, I hope 
it works.'
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    Seventeen
   
   
   
   The Night Warriors assembled late that night at the house on Wissahinnock Avenue, and 
their mood was unusually grave. Springer was pale and androgynous, neither man nor woman, 
and dressed in a strange white gauzy suit that was reminiscent of the Arabian Nights.
   'We pray that this plan of attack will at last succeed in destroying the 
shadow-creature,' said Springer. 'Are you all well prepared?'
   Third time lucky,' sniffed Themesteroth.
   Ex'ii said, 'We should remember that Reblax has set aside his own interests tonight in 
order to exterminate the shadow-creature, and all of us should try to equal his devotion.'
   'I'll second that,' put in Lyraq.
   Arkestrax said, 'Supposing Dianne can't smuggle that staff into police headquarters? 
What's the plan of action then?'
   Oromas I raised his hand reassuringly. 'I arranged with Lieutenant Flexner that she 
should be allowed unrestricted access to Lenny for the purpose of completing her 
psychological tests. She carried the staff into the building in the tripod case for her 
video-recording equipment. The staff will be there when we need it.'
   Reblax said, This whole thing is going to need nerve and concentration and perfect 
timing. We corner the shadow-creature, wherever we locate it. We keep hounding it, until 
it takes the opportunity to leave the dream and materialize in the real world. We'll know 
when it's about to do that, because Lenny will be dreaming about the garden in his 
scripture book. That's the time when Lenny's fear of death is at its strongest - and it's 
my belief that his fear gives the shadow-creature the extra strength it requires to take 
on material shape.
   'The instant the shadow-creature disappears, Oromas I will take me and Themesteroth 
back into the waking world. The rest of you will stay in the dream in case the 
shadow-creature tries to escape back into Lenny's imagination. Don't ask me how we're 
going to use the staff to destroy the shadow-creature, because I don't know - but from 
what happened at the Grant house that night in 1787, it seems that it has some powers of 
its own, if you believe in it enough.'
   'Sure,' retorted Themesteroth, 'and maybe it doesn't.'
   'Well,' said Reblax, 'tonight we're going to find out for sure.'
   They knelt together and spoke the sacred incantation of Ashapola. Tonight, however, 
Springer spread his arms and asked an additional blessing: that they all return safe from 
what Edgar Alien Poe had called 'that wild weird clime' of dreams.
   He had just finished his prayer when there was a loud pounding at the front door of 
the house, and a floodlight penetrated the room from the street below.
   'What the hell?' Themesteroth demanded, and went to the window.
   'Police!' an amplified voice boomed out. 'You're under arrest! Come out of the house 
with your hands held high!' Reblax joined Themesteroth at the window. There were four