Turns out the count was the last person to own a unicorn--but he killed it in his werewolf state. This was about the time that Peter S. Beagle's book The Last Unicorn came out and I guess DC wanted to add a reference in the usual everything-including-the-kitchen-sink manner.
Magda defies Petofi at first, then warns Quentin not to anger him. Quentin tries to stab Petofi with a letter opener, but the count has enough power to render Q. motionless. Then he slams his (remaining) hand down on Quentin's, releasing him. Nursing his injured wrist, Quentin asks in a heartbreaking voice, Why won't you help me? If you know what it's like, why won't you? To get something, you must pay the price, Petofi replies. We can do a little bargaining, perhaps. I'm willing to bargain, Quentin says instantly. You're only willing to cringe, Petofi scoffs, to make inept excuses. You must learn. I paid my price [he holds up the fake hand]--you must pay yours! Then he leaves. Quentin, Quentin! Magda laments. You stole the hand, Quentin reminds her bitterly, and you brought him here. I should kill you for that. Don't talk such foolishness, Magda replies We must get that hand! He won't leave us alone if we don't. Unless we can fight him, Quentin muses. Magda gets an idea: Evan has books that tell about Petofi! He even knows about the hand! Evan and I aren’t the best of friends anymore, Quentin reminds her--but maybe it’s time to rekindle our acquaintance. Be careful, Magda warns him. Don't do anything foolish--promise me! He leaves, but Magda knows his volatility is bound to get the better of him.
Evan is in a pitiable state, imagining that the hand is coming to get him. Quentin arrives, and Evan tells him he wants nothing more to do with the hand and that Tim Shaw has it now.
At the Old House, Magda gazes into her crystal ball and intones, I call up the god of the gates to the future. I ask to see! Give me power to look at the road ahead. I have no right to know, after all I did, but show me in the crystal ball, she says, dissolving into pleading. What will happen? I got to see, please! Quentin enters and announces, Our dear ex-schoolteacher, Timothy Shaw, has the hand. We got to go to him right away, Magda exclaims. That's impossible, Quentin says grimly. We underestimated dear Mr. Shaw--if we ever thought of him at all. He took his clothes, everything he owns, plus the hand, and left. Petofi and Aristede killed him, Magda guesses. No, Quentin replies, he left alone on the evening train, without leaving a forwarding address. Where did he go? Magda asks. Where would you go with all that power in your suitcase? Quentin asks. Then we can’t do nothing? Magda asks in disbelief and dismay. Nothing, Quentin replies bitterly--nothing.
Jamison runs into the count just as he's leaving Collinwood. Jamison is disappointed that he won't get to hear more about Kitchener and all his battles and dutifully kisses the count on request--with what results we will know soon. Magda arrives with Quentin, and the count knows that they've come to ask for his help. The hand ain't in Collinsport, Magda admits. That is your fault, Petofi tells her. You are a very careless custodian. You know where it is, don't you? Magda asks. You’re going to get it now! No, the count answers, I am going to wait for you to find it for me. You played some rather dangerous tricks with my hand, but I should have expected that. He continues with impatient condescension, All of you are children in this house. Never have I seen a group of people so willing to believe lies. I refuse to listen to any more of this! Quentin fumes. Unperturbed, Petofi continues, It will be fascinating to see which of you will be able to live and face the truth--and which of you will die. Already, one by one, the lies are falling away. You at least--to Quentin--admit what you are, and because of that you are closer to the truth than the others. The count smiles as he continues, I’m leaving you a very surprising and rather interesting present. You won’t like it at first, but you will thank me in time. I want nothing from you, Quentin growls. Of course you don't, Petofi says with an equable chuckle, but you can't prevent me from giving it to you. Perhaps I'll be back in a little while, when I have the hand, and then I will undo the mischief I'll be blamed for. Goodbye--and remember, I'll be watching you, even though you won't see me. He picks up his suitcase with his fake right hand and walks out the door. Don't let him scare you, Quentin advises Magda. He has no powers. If he did, he'd use them. Crossing herself, Magda retorts, He's alive, ain't he? It takes power to live a hundred and fifty years!
Suddenly they notice Jamison on the stairs above them, hands clasped behind his back. I beg your pardon, he starts in a most unchildlike manner. Quentin steps forward. Isn't the child isn't in bed? Jamison continues in the same tone. Don't children go to bed at a decent hour these days? [But this is Collinwood!] Quentin and Magda exchange worried glances. Jamison says, As I once told Lord Kitchener-- Magda suddenly seems to understand and reacts with horror. Come down, Quentin tells Jamison. Mr. Collins, Jamison tells him haughtily, I'm not in the habit of being interrupted. What are you talking about? Quentin asks, incredulous. Don't play jokes. Jamison chides him, Mr. Collins, you’re always being the one that's speaking of jokes. As Jamison is speaking, Quentin puts his hands on his nephew’s shoulders. Jamison holds his arms out to steady himself--and now we can see that he is wearing black leather gloves. Quentin--look! Magda exclaims, and they both stare at Jamison’s gloved hands. Why are you staring at my gloves? Jamison asks with a smile. You know that I always wear gloves. Horrified, Magda gasps, Ohhhh! He's possessed! Quentin is staring at him too, but Jamison only smiles--as enigmatically as ever Count Petofi does.….
