"Which button?" Christian wondered. "One of these buttons will take me to the ground floor." He began to reach toward the button in the lefthand corner closest to him, but then something stopped him. "Listen," he reminded himself. "What if I was supposed to look at this from the other side?" Christian moved to the other side of the dais. He studied the numbers. "I think I see a pattern," he said. "This is it. This is the first floor." Christian pressed the button in the lefthand corner opposite where he had been standing.

He heard the gears of the elevator shift into motion. The car shuddered, and then it began sinking, down, down. Christian breathed a sigh of relief. On the indicator above him, he watched the strange characters lighting up in succession. He counted the number of changes: one, two, three, four times. Then the elevator lurched to a stop, and the doors slid open.

Christian found himself in a round, bare room with stone walls. Hanging on hooks on the wall, he saw a number of hooded robes, like those he had seen on the monks at the entrance and in the courtyard. He grabbed one of the robes and pulled it on. It was painful lifting his stub arm high enough to pull the sleeve of the robe on over it. He felt dizzy, his sight darkened, and he saw stars flitting fairy-like in front of his eyes. He found himself sitting on the floor. He knew he didn't have long.

He slowly heaved himself to his feet and stared at the only door in the room. "OK, Christian," he told himself, "Walk through that door and keep walking."

He pushed the door open. Even knowing what he would see did not prepare him for the sight of the mangled corpses in the moonlight. Two monks and two police lifted one of the bodies. As Christian stepped out, they stared at him with baleful expressions. His heart leapt into his throat. But once they had steadied the cadaver, their gaze turned elsewhere and they tramped away, toward an archway. Christian followed them.

As he left the courtyard, he shot one final glance behind him at the tower. He saw another corpse tumbling from the summit. He thought he'd seen the one who had tossed it, a pale fat man in black, glaring haughtily down from behind the black railing of a balcony. He thought he had heard laughter.

Beyond the arch was a pathway leading to a gate. Costumed partygoers were walking toward a limousine waiting on the street. Christian followed them until he was out. Then he turned in the opposite direction.

Whom would he call? The police? Where could he go? Christian shivered uncontrollably. His arm was going terrifyingly numb. He wanted to sit next to a tree, maybe lie down and sleep. But he forced himself to stumble on down the sidewalk under a cold, black sky.