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like
that since before the plagues. Old Naismith would have been young then. Could this be
the ghost of a dead love? Such tales were common in the ruins of L.A., but until now
Wili had been skeptical.
    Any thought of inheriting the estate was gone. The question was, could he get out of
this alive? — and with how much loot? Wili watched the doorknob with horrified
fascination. If he lived through this night, then it was probably safe to stay a few more
days. The vision might be just the warning of a jealous spirit. Such a ghost would not
begrudge him a few more trinkets, as long as he departed when Naismith returned.
    Wili got very little sleep that night.
FIVE
    The horsemen — four of them, with a row of five pack mules — arrived the afternoon of a
slow, rainy day. It had been thundering and windy earlier, but now the rains off
Vandenberg came down in a steady drizzle from a sky so overcast that it already seemed
evening.
    When Wili saw the four, and saw that none of them was Naismith, he faded around the
mansion, toward the pond and his cache. Then he stopped for a foolish moment,
wondering if he should run back and warn Irma and Bill.
    But the two stupid caretakers were already running down the front steps to greet the
intruders: an enormous fat fellow and three rifle-carrying men-at-arms. As he skulked in
the bushes, Bill turned and seemed to look directly at his hiding place. "Wili, come help
our guests."
    Mustering what dignity he could, the boy emerged and walked toward the group. The
old, fat one dismounted. He looked like a Jonque, but his English was strangely accented.
"Ah, so this is his apprentice,
hein?
I have wondered if the master would ever find a
successor and what sort of person he might be." He patted the bristling Wili on the head,
making the usual error about the boy's age.
    The gesture was patronizing, but Wili thought there was a hint of respect, almost awe,
in his voice. Perhaps this slob was not a Jonque and had never seen a black before. The
fellow stared silently at Wili for a moment and then seemed to notice the rain. He gave
an exaggerated shiver and most of the group moved up the steps. Bill and Wili were left
to take the animals around to the outbuilding.
    Four guests. That was not the end. By twos and threes and fours, all through the
afternoon and evening, others drifted in. The horses and mules quickly overflowed the
small outbuilding, and Bill showed Wili hidden stables. There were no servants. The
guests themselves, or at least the more junior of them, carried the baggage indoors and
helped with the animals. Much of the luggage was not taken to their rooms, but
disappeared into the halls below ground. The rest turned out to be food and drink — which
made sense, since the manor produced only enough to feed three or four people.
    Night and, more rain. The last of the visitors arrived — and one of these was Naismith.
The old man took his apprentice aside. "Ah, Wili, you have remained." His Spanish was
as stilted as ever, and he paused frequently as if waiting for some unseen speaker to
supply him with a missing word. "After the meetings, when our guests have gone, you
and I must talk on your course of study. You are too old to delay. For now, though, help
Irma and Bill and do not... bother... our guests." He looked at Wili as though suspecting
the boy might do what Wili had indeed been considering. There was many a fat purse to
be seen among these naive travelers.
    "A new apprentice has nothing to tell his elders, and there is little he can learn from
them in this short time." With that the old man departed for the halls beneath his small
castle, and Wili was left to work with Irma and two of the visitors in the dimly lit
kitchen.
    Their mysterious guests stayed all that night and through the next day. Most kept to
their rooms and the meeting halls. Several helped Bill with repairs on the outbuilding.
Even here they behaved strangely: For instance, the roof of the stable badly needed