"Richard! Where is the nursery?"
The full lower lip began to tremble. "I can't tell you!" Richie wailed. "I promised!"
Jonathan slammed his fist on the desk. "Answer me!" He knew he shouldn't speak this way to Richie; he knew he was frightening the boy. But the ideas racing through his mind drove him to find out what this was all about. It might be nothing, but it also might be—"Answer me, Richard!"
The child stifled a sob. "Here," he said weakly.
"Here? Where?"
"In my house," said Richie. "And Steve's house and Billy's and all over." He rubbed his eyes, leaving a grimy smear.
"All right," soothed Jonathan. "It's all right now, son. Daddy didn't mean to scare you. Daddy has to learn these things, that's all. Just like learning in school."
The boy shook his head resentfully. "You know," he accused. "You just forgot."
"What did I forget, Richie?"
"You forgot all about Allavarg. He told me! It was a different Allavarg when you were little, but it was almost the same. You used to play with your Allavarg when you were little like me!"