Thorn realized then what he meant, rose and walked away.

"Don't worry about him," Jennings said to the girls. "Anti-semitic."

On the street, Thorn looked back at Jennings. Seeing he already had his hands on them, he turned away, walking off into the night.

He wandered aimlessly, his grief washing over him like a wave. The pain throbbed beneath his arm and the night sounds were alien; he felt that if death were to suddenly take him, it would not be unwelcome. He passed a nightclub, and the doorman grabbed his arm, attempting to persuade him to come inside. But Thorn kept moving, unhearing, unfeeling, seeing the streetlights through blurred eyes. Far ahead people were filing out of a synagogue and as Thorn approached, he saw the doors were open, and he silently entered. The Star of David was illuminated on an altar, biblical scrolls beneath it encased in glass. Thorn approached until he stood before them, alone in the echoing silence.

"Can I help you?" asked a voice from the shadows, and Thorn turned to see an aged rabbi emerging.

He was dressed in black and walked in an arthritic crouch, his small, boxlike hat defying gravity as it stubbornly clung to his head.

"This is the oldest Torah in Israel," he said, indicating the scrolls. "It was unearthed from the shores of the Red Sea."

Thorn regarded the man; his aged eyes, clouded with cataracts, were filled with pride.

"The ground beneath Israel is filled with history," the old man whispered. "A pity we must walk on it."

He turned to Thorn now and smiled.

"Are you visiting?"

"Yes."

"What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for someone," replied Thorn,

"That is why I came here, too. I was looking for my sister. I didn't find her." The man smiled. "Perhaps we're walking upon her, too."

A silence passed and the man reached up, flicking out a light.

"Have you ever heard the name 'Bugenhagen'?" asked Thorn.

"Is it Polish?"

"I don't know."

"He lives in Israel?"

"I believe so."

"What does he do?"

Thorn felt foolish and shook his head.

"I don't know."

"It is a familiar name."

They stood for a time in the darkness, the rabbi pondering it, as if on the verge of recall.

"Do you know what an exorcist is?" asked Thorn.

"An exorcist?" smiled the old man. "You mean with the Devil?"

"Yes."

The rabbi laughed and waved his hand at Thorn.

"Why do you laugh?" asked Thorn.

"There is no such thing."

"No?"

"The Devil. There is no such thing."

He moved off into the darkness, chuckling as though he'd heard a joke. Thorn glanced again at the scriptures, then exited into the night.