"What do I mean! Just listen to him! You know very well what I mean. Shoving me back into your subconscious just when things really get exciting!" Marc glanced questioningly around. "We're in the valley of your obnoxious mind," Toffee explained ungraciously. "Now I'll have to go back to work, putting away that stupid miscellaneous information. And what trash it is! It's what I get for taking the job in an inferior mind. I should have held out for a decent intellect." "I'm sorry," Marc murmured, too cowed to argue. The anger immediately faded from Toffee's puckish features. She fell to her knees beside him. "I'm sorry I said that, Marc," she said with unaccustomed gentleness. "I didn't mean it. I wouldn't be anyone else's subconscious manifestation for anything in the world. I swear it!" "World!" The word struck a responsive chord in Marc's memory. "I've got to get back!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "Not until you kiss me goodbye," Toffee insisted, rising after him. Cool lips and whirling dizziness often went hand in hand, but never as when the lips involved were Toffee's. Suddenly, the valley had begun to spin, and Marc felt himself being lifted upward. There was a dreadful rush of wind, and Toffee was torn from his embrace. A moment later, as through the roar of a tumultuous ocean, her voice reached him faintly. "Don't forget!" she was calling. "Don't forget that I'm always waiting here, in the back of your mind. I'm always here, Marc!" Marc attempted a reply, but the screaming wind forced the words back into his throat. He tried not to notice that the light was growing dim; that a heavy blackness was drawing close around him, everywhere. * * * * * Marc opened his eyes, and cautiously felt his jaw. It hurt. Taking this in stride, he directed his attention to his surroundings. He was propped up against the passage wall in a more-or-less, back-of-the-neck, sitting position. From the opening at the end, he could see that the half-light of early morning was reaching in to waste a delicate, silvery outline on an immense pile of rocky wreckage. There was a scraping sound behind him, and he turned. "You finally wake up?" the sheriff drawled, moving toward him. "Might's well tell you right now, you ain't hurt none, so's you won't worry." Marc started to his feet. "You don't have to run from me no more," the sheriff said. "You're in the clear. Herrigg told us all about the murder; how he shot the woman and put 'er in your house. We ain't after you no more." Marc relaxed. "Where is everyone?" he asked. "What happened?" "They've all went," the sheriff said uneasily. "Everyone 'cept you and me ... and one other." "One other?"