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'Wolfs？'
'I guess so；' Richard said； almost angrily。 'Yeah； I guess some of them could have been Wolfs； or whatever you call them。 They looked unfortable in their clothes…they were always scratching themselves； usually in those places where nice people aren't supposed to scratch。 Others looked like the substitute coach。 Kind of hard and mean。 Some of those guys I used to see out at Camp Readiness； too。 I'll tell you one thing； Jack…those guys were even more scared of that place than my father was。 They just about cringed when they got near it。'
'Sunlight Gardener？ Was he ever there？'
'Uh…huh；' Richard said。 'But in Point Venuti he looked more like the man we saw over there '
'Like Osmond。'
'Yes。 But those people didn't e very often。 Mostly it was just my father； by himself。 Sometimes he'd get the restaurant at our motel to pack him some sandwiches； and he'd sit on a sidewalk bench and eat his lunch looking at the hotel。 I stood at the window in the lobby of the Kingsland and looked at my father looking at the hotel。 I never liked his face at those times。 He looked afraid； but he also looked like 。 。 。 like he was gloating。'
'Gloating；' Jack mused。
'Sometimes he asked me if I wanted to e with him； and I always said no。 He'd nod and I remember once he said； 'There'll be time。 You'll understand everything； Rich 。 。 。 in time。' I remember thinking that if it was about that black hotel； I didn't want to understand。
'Once；' Richard said； 'when he was drunk； he said there was something inside that place。 He said it had been there for a long time。 We were lying in our beds； I remember。 The wind was high that night。 I could hear the waves hitting the beach； and the squeaky sound of those weathervanes turning on top of the Agincourt's towers。 It was a scary sound。 I thought about that place； all those rooms； all of them empty…'
'Except for the ghosts；' Jack muttered。 He thought he heard footsteps and looked quickly behind them。 Nothing； no one。 The roadbed was deserted for as far as he could see。
'That's right； except for the ghosts；' Richard agreed。 'So I said； 'Is it valuable； Daddy？' '
' 'It's the most valuable thing there is；' he said。
' 'Then some junkie will probably break in and steal it；' I said。 It wasn't…how can I say this？…it wasn't a subject I wanted to pursue； but I didn't want him to go to sleep； either。 Not with that wind blowing outside； and the sound of those vanes squeaking in the night。
'He laughed； and I heard a clink as he poured himself a little more bourbon from the bottle on the floor。
' 'Nobody is going to steal it； Rich；' he said。 'And any junkie who went into the Agincourt would see things he never saw before。' He drank his drink； and I could tell he was getting sleepy。 'Only one person in the whole world could ever touch that thing； and he'll never even get close to it； Rich。 I can guarantee that。 One thing that interests me is that it's the same over there as over here。 It doesn't change…at least； as far as I can tell； it doesn't change。 I'd like to have it； but I'm not even going to try； at least not now； and maybe not ever。 I could do things with it…you bet！…but on the whole； I think I like the thing best right where it is。'
'I was getting sleepy myself by then； but I asked him what it was that he kept talking about。'
'What did he say？' Jack asked； dry…mouthed。
'He called it…' Richard hesitated； frowning in thought。 'He called it 'the axle of all possible worlds。' Then he laughed。 Then he called it something else。 Something you wouldn't like。'
'What was that？'
'It'll make you mad。'
'e on； Richard； spill it。'
'He called it 。 。 。 well 。 。 。 he called it 'Phil Sawyer's folly'。 '
It was not anger he felt but a burst of hot； dizzying excitement。 That was it； all right； that was the Talisman。 The axle of all possible worlds。 How many worlds？ God alone knew。 The American Territories； the Territories themselves； the hypothetical Territories' Territories； and on and on； like the stripes ing ceaselessly up and out of a turning barber pole。 A universe of worlds； a dimensional macrocosm of worlds…and in all of them one thing that was always the same； one unifying force that was undeniably good； even if it now happened to be imprisoned in an evil place； the Talisman； axle of all possible worlds。 And was it also Phil Sawyer's folly？ Probably so。 Phil's folly 。 。 。 Jack's folly 。 。 。 Morgan Sloat's 。 。 。 Gardener's 。 。 。 and the hope； of course； of two Queens。
'It's more than Twinners；' he said in a low voice。
Richard had been plodding along； watching the rotted ties disappear beneath his feet。 Now he looked nervously up at Jack。
'It's more than Twinners； because there are more than two worlds。 There are triplets 。 。 。 quadruplets 。 。 。 who knows？ Morgan Sloat here； Morgan of Orris over there； maybe Mor…gan； Duke of Azreel； somewhere else。 But he never went inside the hotel！'
'I don't know what you're talking about；' Richard said in a resigned voice。 But I'm sure you'll go right on； anyway； that resigned tone said； progressing from nonsense to outright insanity。 All aboard for Seabrook Island！
'He can't go inside。 That is； Morgan of California can't…and do you know why？ Because Morgan of Orris can't。 And Morgan of Orris can't because Morgan of California can't。 If one of them can't go into his version of the black hotel； then none of them can。 Do you see？'
'No。'
Jack； feverish with discovery； didn't hear what Richard said at all。
'Two Morgans； or dozens。 It doesn't matter。 Two Lilys； or dozens…dozens of Queens in dozens of worlds； Richard； think of that！ How does that mess your mind？ Dozens of black hotels…only in some worlds it might be a black amusement park 。 。 。 or a black trailer court 。 。 。 or I don't know what。 But Richard…'
He stopped； turned Richard by the shoulders； and stared at him； his eyes blazing。 Richard tried to draw away from him for a moment； and then stopped； entranced by the fiery beauty on Jack's face。 Suddenly； briefly； Richard believed that all things might be possible。 Suddenly； briefly； he felt healed。
'What？' he whispered。
'Some things are not excluded。 Some people are not excluded。 They are 。 。 。 well 。 。 。 single…natured。 That's the only way I can think of to say it。 They are like it…the Talisman。 Single…natured。 Me。 I'm single…natured。 I had a Twinner； but he died。 Not just in the Territories world； but in all worlds but this one。 I know that…I feel that。 My dad knew it； too。 I think that's why he called me Travelling Jack。 When I'm here； I'm not there。 When I'm there； I'm not here。 And Richard； neither are you！'
Richard stared at him； speechless。
'You don't remember； you were mostly in Freakout City while I was talking to Anders。 But he said Morgan of Orris had a boy…child。 Rushton。 Do you know what he was？'
'Yes；' Richard whispered。 He was still unable to pull his eyes away from Jack's。 'He was my Twinner。'
'That's right。 The little boy died； Anders said。 The Talisman is single…natured。 We're single…natured。 Your father isn't。 I've seen Morgan of Orris in that other world； and he's like your father； but he's not your father。 He couldn't go into the black hotel； Richard。 He can't now。 But he knew you were single…natured； just as he knows I am。 He'd like me dead。 He needs you on his side。
'Because then； if he decided he did want the Talisman； he could always send you in to get it； couldn't he？'
Richard began to tremble。
'Never mind；' Jack said grimly。 'He won't have to worry about it。 We're going to bring it out； but he's not going to have it。'
'Jack； I don't think I can go into that place；' Richard said； but he spoke in a low； strengthless whisper； and Jack； who was already walking on； didn't hear him。
Richard trotted to catch up。
12
Conversation lapsed。 Noon came and went。 The woods had bee very silent； and twice Jack had seen trees with strange； gnarly trunks and tangled roots growing quite close to the tracks。 He did not much like the looks of these trees。 They looked familiar。
Richard； staring at the ties as they disappeared beneath his feet； at last stumbled and fell over； hitting his head。 After that； Jack piggybacked him again。
'There； Jack！' Richard called； after what seemed an eternity。
Up ahead； the tracks disappeared into an old car…barn。 The doors hung open on a shadowy darkness that looked dull and moth…eaten。 Beyond the car…barn （which might once have been as pleasant as Richard had said； but which only looked spooky to Jack now） was a highway…101； Jack guessed。
Beyond that； the ocean…he could hear the pounding waves。
'I guess we're here；' he said in a dry voice。
'Almost；' Richard said。 'Point Venuti's a mile or so down the road。 God； I wish we didn't have to go there； Jack 。 。 。 Jack？ Where are you going？'
But Jack didn't look around。 He stepped off the tracks； detoured around one of those strange…looking trees （this one not even shrub…high）； and headed for the road。 High grasses and weeds brushed his road…battered jeans。 Something inside the trolley…barn…Morgan Sloat's private train…station of yore…moved with a nast