The Devil in green

The peal of bells at noon should have sounded joyful, yet it had an oddly leaden note to it as if it were heralding a warning instead of a celebration. The entire brotherhood, packed into the cathedral for the announcement, waited with a measure of hope. Mallory had already decided that what was to come was a foregone conclusion, though no one believed him. 'Stefan hasn't got enough experience in the Church,' Daniels said. 'They'll go for a continuity candidate, somebody with the weight of Cornelius.'

Mallory tried to explain that, as in all shifts of power, it would simply go to whoever wanted it badly enough. Daniels had countered that Stefan had professed he didn't want it at all — he was happy with his lot. Mallory praised him for a life untainted with cynicism — or reality. They agreed to differ.

The Church elders sat impassively in the quire, though Mallory thought he saw a hardness in some of their features that suggested which way the wind had blown.

It was Julian, the man who should have been Cornelius's anointed successor but who was probably too young and too pleasant, who made the announcement. 'The Chapter of Canons has deliberated long and hard over the last twenty-four hours. The choice of who should become our new bishop was never going to be easy.' His voice was strong, filling the vast structure. 'We took advice from some of the most learned and wisest members of our Church before reaching our decision. We considered the merits of many before coming to our conclusion. In the end, it was a harder decision than anyone dreamed, but it must be one that you all accept, for anything less than a united front could be the end of us.'

Mallory thought it interesting that he made this point so early in his speech.

Julian took a deep breath before continuing, his gaze fixed on the sunlight breaking through the stained-glass windows. 'There are some amongst you who probably feel we are rushing towards this with unseemly haste. Indeed, that was my own opinion. However, the case has been made that we are in a time of crisis… if not war… and that to leave the Church leaderless at this time would be an abdication of responsibility with potentially lethal results. This is a time when we must all pull together, for our own survival and for the survival of the Church. The case, too, was made that the strongest leadership will be necessary. Thoughtful debate and a desire to consider all sides is a peacetime luxury. I accept now that we need a clear vision, a brave heart and a strong stomach. An ability to call, perhaps, for sacrifices from us all. And who knows the importance of sacrifice better than we? Our Lord Jesus Christ died to redeem all mankind. Against that, the sacrifices demanded of us must seem petty. And so we shall stand firm, and do what is asked of us.'

He appeared at that moment to be talking to himself. He caught himself after a long pause and fixed his attention back on the rapt audience. 'The new bishop is well known to you, and I'm sure you're perfectiy aware of the qualities we saw in him.' He took a step to one side and made an awkward gesture that had more of the theatrical about it than any honest emotion. 'Our new bishop is Stefan.'

A ripple ran through the crowd, though whether it was appreciative or not was hard to tell. Mallory tried to catch Daniels' eye, but his friend pointedly avoided him.

Stefan emerged from the wings with an air of studied gravitas. 'Thank you, Julian. I am truly humbled by the trust you have all placed in me, and I pray that I can find the strength to live up to expectations. This is not a position I wished for — I was content to serve in the role God had granted me — and certainly not in these terrible circumstances. But I will not shirk this calling. I will continue to serve God, and you, to the best of the abilities with which He has gifted me.' He continued to move his gaze across the congregation as if he were speaking to each one personally. 'There will be some changes… we need to be stronger if we are to avoid any more tragedies… but this is not the time to talk of them. The Chapter of Canons will convene shortiy to discuss the new rules I have planned and an announcement will be made soon. Now, let us join together in prayer for my predecessor, Cornelius, a devout man who provided many lessons for us all.'

As they bowed their heads, Daniels finally did look over. Mallory was surprised by what he saw in his face: it looked very much like fear.

The ceremony anointing Stefan had been stripped of pomp and ceremony under the circumstances and took less than an hour. Afterwards, Mallory and Gardener went to inspect the digging. Piles of soil lay all around, but the diggers had now hit the expected obstacle of the gravel that provided the solid foundation for the cathedral.

'They need to make it deep and wide enough to bring provisions in,' Gardener mused.

'And when they could have made it just wide enough for one man,' Mallory said.

Gardener eyed him suspiciously. 'You're not thinking of running out on us, are you?'

'With the way things have been going here, I can honestly say I'd rather be anywhere — even London.'

'You're just a soft Southern shit, Mallory,' Gardener deadpanned. 'The first bit of bloody hardship and you fall apart.'

'Well, I wasn't brought up wearing a horsehair shirt in a leaky hovel, you Northern bastard.'

Gardener fixed himself a roll-up.

'Where do you get that supply of tobacco from, anyway?' Mallory asked.

'Don't ask me that, and I won't ask you what you did before you got here.'

Mallory winced; was it that obvious? 'What do you think of the new boss, then?'

'Good choice, I reckon.'

'Yeah? Can't see it myself.'

'He's a tough bloke. That's what we need right now: somebody who can take control.'

'That's what they said in the Weimar Republic.'

Gardener inhaled the smoke deeply. 'Sometimes, Mallory, I think you're from another bloody planet.'

November advanced relentlessly. The nights were always bitter, the days harsher than anyone remembered from previous years. Winter threatened a furious assault.

Stefan quickly but cautiously exerted his control over the rule of the cathedral, though he did it with a smiling, always moderate face. The Inquisition was brought into the structure of authority alongside the knights, 'to root out seditious elements amongst the brothers' so Stefan said, although Mallory saw no sign of treason; most were too broken for that. Yet Stefan made no overt move to change the day-to-day governance of life in the cathedral. Instead, he preferred to make daily pronouncements filled with platitudes about how spirits were high, how the brethren had grown even more devout, how the Lord was with them in the face of adversity.

The hangover from Cornelius's death was strong, affecting the mood deeply so that everyone expected something worse to come. The supplies were also diminishing rapidly, the dishes becoming more imaginative to utilise the sparse range of vegetables remaining in the stores. They'd even started slaughtering the milk-producing cows; the sheep, pigs and chickens were already gone.

The detailed questioning of everyone in the cathedral regarding Cornelius's murder had continued unabated without any noticeable advances. There had been no further outbreaks of violence, but that did little to make anyone feel more secure.

Mallory, Miller, Daniels and Gardener had been kept under such a strict timetable that they had not found any opportunities to search for the killer anywhere beyond the very edges of the shadowy shifting zone. 'We've got to find some way to get in there — it's our responsibility,' Miller urged at every opportunity, until he was shouted down by the other three every time the first few words came from his lips. Eventually, Mallory, as their unelected leader, was convinced that he should talk to Hipgrave, who, though plainly unstable, had the same object in mind and could manipulate the work rotas. Mallory silently resolved to put it off until the last moment.

The tunnel progressed slowly, through several collapses, much to the annoyance of everyone who saw the short distance that had to be traversed; there were simply no engineers in the cathedral, and in such a precarious environment best guesses didn't work. The dismal mood was made worse by the sounds of music and gaiety that floated over the wall from the travellers' camp beyond.

And every night the hordes of hell attacked with a vigour that had not been evident at the onset, as if they sensed that their moment was coming. Their tactics had changed too: instead of a frontal assault, they would sometimes storm St Ann Gate in the east, or Harnham Gate in the south. Occasionally, they would disrupt the metal sheeting or bring cracks to stone that had stood firm for centuries, prompting frenzied repairs. For so long the brethren had felt secure in their fortress. Now fear was rising that it was only a matter of time before the beasts broke through.

*

Blaine summoned the knights on the morning of November the thirteenth. It was a bright day, the first warm one for weeks, and that helped raise spirits a little.

Since Stefan's coronation, the knights' commander had rarely been seen, locking himself away with Hipgrave and Roeser to discuss strategy before debating it with Stefan and Broderick, whose role as leader of the Inquisition had earned him a place at the new bishop's right hand. That morning, Blaine had the bright-eyed look of someone finally ready for vengeance. He strode to the front of the great hall with purpose and a spring in his step. Hipgrave and Roeser took up positions behind him and to either side.

'I'm sure all this waiting around getting beaten on has annoyed you as much as it has me.' He had a gleam in his eye and a faint, cruel smile on his lips. 'Well, you'll be pleased to know that period is now officially over. We're not scared, we're not weak. We're men… men of God… and now we're going to show that we can't be forced to cower, or hide. That we're not going to be overrun. It's time for us to stand up proudly and prove who we are.' He ground his teeth together so hard everyone on the front row heard it. 'Now we strike back.'

Hipgrave and Roeser disappeared to the back of the hall and returned with a long, low crate. They levered off the lid with a dagger, delved into the straw packing and removed two rifles, both of which looked like Second World War issue. Hipgrave handed one to Blaine who checked the loading mechanism and sighting.

'In the basement of the former regimental headquarters of the Royal Gloucestershire, Berkshire and Wiltshire Regiment, now part of the cathedral compound, there is a store of weapons and a limited supply of ammunition,' he said, still admiring the sighting. 'They're not exactly top of the range, but they still pack a pretty big punch.'

'Bastard didn't dish those out when we were riding into the danger zone,' Mallory hissed to Daniels.

'He was saving them for people who mattered,' Daniels replied wryly.

Blaine tossed the rifle back to Hipgrave who deposited it back in the box. 'For too long those devils have attacked us freely. They think we haven't got any teeth. Tonight we're going to show them that we have. Tonight we're going to make them scared of us, by hitting one of the most important, powerful demons out there. Prepare yourself for a tremendous victory. We gather on the rooftop at nineteen hundred hours precisely tomorrow night.'

As he left the great hall, a ripple of impromptu applause ran through the knights. Even Mallory, who had no respect for the authority or badge, felt a wave of excitement at the thought of finally doing something after weeks of inactivity.

In the end, it was Hipgrave who made the first move. Mallory was finishing a small bowl of thin carrot soup after a hard morning of physical training and overseeing repairs to the walls when the captain crossed the refectory purposefully.

'Mallory,' Hipgrave said with a curt nod, knowing they were being watched. But when he sat down he leaned across the table conspiratorially. 'There's something I want you to see.'

'I'm surprised you've found the time to come here. Blaine seems to be relying on you more and more.'

Hipgrave gave a self-satisfied smile. 'It often takes a crisis for someone's true worth to be recognised. But if anything, it's only made me more aware of my responsibilities. We have to flush that devil out before it strikes again, Mallory. And it will, make no mistake, because that's its nature.' He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Mallory could see the instability clearly upon him, in the long, odd pauses in his speech or the exaggerated gestures he often made to underline a point. It wouldn't take much for him to crack. 'I have to be honest here, Mallory, you wouldn't have been my first choice to stand at my shoulder on this. You've not got the military mind. You're subversive and untrustworthy.'

'Thanks,' Mallory said, draining the last of his soup.

Hipgrave dropped a hand firmly on Mallory's wrist. 'This is no joke, Mallory. We have been gifted with a tremendous responsibility. I spent a long time wrestling with why I was made to suffer by seeing the changes that happened in this place when everyone else was blind to it. Why I was made to be an outsider.' Mallory realised this was the worst thing that could have happened to Hipgrave. 'And then I realised it was because I had been chosen by the Lord, for a mission.'

'Or it could have been a coincidence.'

'In your world, Mallory. In my world, a world ruled by God, there are no coincidences. Everything that happens is through His Will. He chose me to be His instrument in ridding this holy place of Evil. And I choose you to help me. I have to choose you, because you have the God-given eyes to see clearly too. I don't profess to know the Lord's mind in this, and I cannot begin to understand what He sees in you, Mallory. But you fit into His plan somewhere, and I have to go along with that.'

'Well, glad I'm not a fifth wheel.'

'Now, come with me.' Hipgrave walked a few paces ahead of Mallory as if he were leading him out for some menial task. Once they were away from the eyes of the brethren, he relaxed a little. 'I've been doing some exploring myself. These new buildings are very strange indeed. They change their layout, you know. Not in any obvious way — I mean, if we want to get to the great hall we get there. It's just that sometimes the route is different. Three long corridors one day, two corridors and a set of stairs the next. I've been keeping detailed notes. But that's not the only thing.'

He led Mallory into a small chapel on the periphery of the new section. There was a plain altar and cross at one end, and three rows of wooden chairs. At the back stood a small desk covered with masses of candles; most of them had burned right down, their wax set in a great white flood across the desk and on to the floor, like the lava flow of a volcano.

Hipgrave headed over to the wood-panelled wall behind the altar and began to work his way along it, tapping. When he found what he was looking for he turned to Mallory, smiling triumphantly, and said, 'Watch this.' He pressed the panel forcefully in the top two corners and it slid back silently. Mallory felt a rush of cold, dank air. 'A secret passage,' Hipgrave said redundantly.

He went to the back of the room, selected a candle with a little life and lit it with his flint.

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' If the main corridors changed their route continually, Mallory didn't feel comfortable going into a secret network that might be even more unpredictable.

'No need to worry,' Hipgrave replied breezily, 'I've already investigated it. There are plenty of exit points along the way.' He motioned for Mallory to follow him, then stepped into the dark, shielding the candle with his hand. Mallory considered leaving Hipgrave in there before accepting it would get him nowhere. Reluctantly, he followed.

The tunnel was just wide enough to walk along without brushing shoulders against the walls. After ten feet, a small flight of steps led down, and from then on it twisted and turned so much that Mallory had soon lost all sense of direction. It was damp with whistling, cold air currents suggesting large spaces somewhere ahead.

They'd been following it for ten minutes when another downward flight of stairs took them into a low-ceilinged room where expanses of something glowed white in the flickering candlelight. Hipgrave recoiled when he saw what was there.

Bones were heaped on all sides. The black eyeholes of skulls glared out from a confusion of skeletal remains so jumbled up that it was impossible to tell where one body ended and another began, or even if the skeletons were whole. The ghoulish display was oppressive.

'This wasn't here before,' Hipgrave said.

'An ossuary.' Mallory had been there before, briefly, on his first exploration of the new buildings. 'They were popular in medieval times, particularly at monasteries… somewhere to store the remains of the people who had lived there. There's a famous one in the catacombs under Paris.'

Hipgrave surveyed the immense size of the bone-heap stretching way beyond where the candlelight could reach. 'There must have been a lot of people living here.'

'Or it's been around for a very long time.'

As they moved through it, Mallory was disturbed to see at the back of the piles some bones that didn't look human — too long, too twisted, a skull that appeared to have horns growing out of it. Just a trick of the shifting shadows, he told himself.

Hipgrave had been unnerved by the ossuary, too, for he remained silent for the next twenty minutes until Mallory was forced to ask him exactly where they were going.

'It's not the same route I followed before…'

Mallory's heart sank at the indecision in Hipgrave's voice; they were lost. 'We should turn back-'

'No, no, we'll get there eventually.'

Mallory was about to argue when Hipgrave let out a jubilant cry. He hurried forwards and knelt down. As Mallory came up behind him, he saw what had caught Hipgrave's eye: a thin blue line of what looked like an electrical discharge crackling along the floor, up the walls and across the ceiling. It was so faint as to be indiscernible unless you were actually upon it.

'What is that?' Mallory asked. He was surprised to feel a faint buzzing in his sword where it hung against his leg, as if it were responding to the energy.

'I don't know. But it's been in a few of the tunnels I've wandered down.'

Mallory cautiously reached out across the blue line. A faint tingling buzzed in his fingers as they passed over it. The air on the other side felt different, almost silky. Instinctively, Mallory knew. 'It's a boundary.' Between this world and the Otherworld, he thought. His earlier suspicions had been true: for some reason, the cathedral compound had become a crossing-over point, where the world and Otherworld merged, and at the point of confluence there was chaos and unpredictability.

'That's what I thought,' Hipgrave said, 'and on the other side is where that Devil lives.' He peered into the dark as if he could pierce it by effort alone. 'The Devil has defined his territory of Evil. Who knows? Crossing over this line might warn him in some way.'

'Then I've already triggered it,' Mallory said. 'We should get back.'

'We'll return,' Hipgrave continued dreamily, as if talking to himself, 'the five of us, and we'll hunt it down. We'll kill it dead.'

They were just turning to depart when the noise of metallic clinking against stone echoed in the depths of the tunnel. As it approached them, the clinking became a consistent scraping. An image of a billhook being dragged along the wall sprang unbidden into Mallory's mind.

'Let's get out of here,' Mallory hissed. His anxiety increased a notch when he saw that Hipgrave's eyes had become wide and distant.

'No, this is our chance,' Hipgrave said quietiy. He drew his sword and turned to face the crackling line of Blue Fire.

'You saw what it did to Cornelius,' Mallory warned. 'The two of us might not be up to it. Besides, this isn't the place to make a stand — there's not enough space to manoeuvre.'

Hipgrave didn't appear to hear him. He stepped forwards until the toe of his boot brushed the tiny sapphire sparks. A worrying thought leaped into Mallory's mind.

'Don't cross the line!' he said. 'It's not sacred ground on the other side. We won't be protected.'

'We have to stop the Devil,' Hipgrave whispered.

Whoever was ahead of them was moving down the tunnel, the scrape of metal now accompanied by a heavy tread and hard breathing. Mallory thought he could occasionally glimpse golden sparks where the metallic object hit the wall.

'Come on, Hipgrave,' he said as supportively as he could muster. 'A good general knows when to retreat.' He grabbed Hipgrave's arm and attempted to tug him back. Hipgrave resisted with the slow, measured strength of a sleepwalker. He held his sword out threateningly.

'WHO GOES THERE?' The voice boomed out with the sound and fury of a tolling bell. Mallory covered his ears and recoiled. Hipgrave blanched.

'I'm not scared,' he said.

The growing noises suggested that the approaching figure should now be in sight, but Mallory could see nothing in the thick shadows.

'Hipgrave,' Mallory pressed.

Hipgrave's sword-arm wilted a little; he looked as if he was starting to comprehend Mallory's warnings. But then the haze crossed his eyes again and he took one step over the blue line. Mallory lunged for him and missed.

'I'm ready for you, Devil!' Hipgrave said, brandishing his sword.

A hand as big as a dinner plate shot from the shadows and clamped around Hipgrave's wrist. He yelled in fright; Mallory started. It had a studded leather band at its wrist and tattered brown cloth wrapped around fingers and palm in a makeshift glove. But what shocked Mallory the most was that where the forearm disappeared into the dark there was no sense of a body attached; it was as if the interloper only took on substance when it was in the light.

Hipgrave howled as the steely fingers dug into his flesh. Mallory threw his arms around Hipgrave's waist and attempted to drag him backwards over the line. The hand held fast, and effortlessly; in fact, Mallory felt himself being pulled forwards. It was too strong. Freeing one hand, he whipped out his sword and prodded into the dark. There was a fizz of blue and a tremendous howl that made his ears ring. Suddenly he was flying on to his back, with Hipgrave crashing on top of him.

Mallory half-expected the attacker to pursue them even though they were on sacred ground, so he rolled over and dragged Hipgrave to his feet, propelling him back down the tunnel. Hipgrave was clutching his sword- arm in pain where the skin was marred by five red marks.

'We'll be back,' he grunted. 'We've seen it now.'

'It's seen us,' Mallory corrected.

When they were a few yards away, he glanced back to see a large figure silhouetted against the lighter shadows, stooping to fits its frame in the constricting tunnel. Mallory didn't want to come back to face that thing at all.

They emerged from another tunnel on the edge of the cloisters, both still troubled by what they had seen. Hipgrave was rambling about exorcising the Devil, and seemed so distracted that he was barely aware Mallory was with him. Mallory took the earliest opportunity to slip away, first into the cathedral and then out into the twilight. As he crossed the lawns back to the dorm, he saw Daniels in deep conversation with his young friend Lewis — his lover, Mallory guessed. The teen appeared upset. Mallory tried not to look, but as he passed it was obvious all was not well between the two of them. The youth was tearful, his voice growing louder. Eventually he stormed away. Daniels noticed Mallory and came over morosely.

'Trouble?' Mallory said.

Daniels didn't meet his eye. 'He's young — he doesn't understand.' He fell silent, and when Mallory didn't press him for information, he added, 'You haven't heard, then. Stefan is introducing some new rules to impose order. They were announced an hour ago in the cathedral. Where were you?'

'Carrying Hipgrave's drool cup. What kind of rules?' 'Reactionary rules.' There was an edge to Daniels' voice that Mallory hadn't heard before.

'You know he comes from the fundamentalist wing. Don't tell me you're surprised.'

'I was hopeful, Mallory. That's the kind of person I am -1 always think everyone is as reasonable and erudite and downright charming as myself.' He looked up at the icy stars. 'It's going to be a hell of a winter.'

'So what's he-'

'He doesn't want any sodomites polluting the religion. There are too many of us here, apparendy — though most of them must be so far in the closet they've never seen the light of day. And God doesn't recognise us. We're sinful… we'll never be allowed into heaven.'

'That's what you get for messing with religion, Daniels — it's just a prop for prejudice.'

He swore under his breath with irritation. 'I knew I shouldn't waste my time talking to you…'

Mallory caught him as he prepared to storm off. 'You're right — I'm sorry, that was a cheap shot. Look, just lie low for a while. What can he do?'

'I don't know. But he had those thugs from the Inquisition with him when he made the announcement. I'm starting to get a bad feeling about this.'

'For God's sake,' Mallory said, 'this is the pathetic rump of Christianity in Britain, here, within these four walls. He can't afford to start driving people out! There'll be nobody left.'

'I suppose you're right. He's just making a point. I mean, he said we could stay if we renounced our sexuality, so he's not being completely hard line about it.'

'There you go.'

Daniels rubbed his eyes wearily. 'I was trying to explain it to Lewis. I said if we didn't flaunt it we could carry on. He said if God is love and we love each other, what's wrong with that?'

'He's got a point.'

'The Bible says-'

'The Bible says a lot of nonsense amongst all the good stuff. You can justify any point of view with it. Same with the Koran. Look what happened out in Afghanistan.'

'If we haven't got the Bible, Mallory, we haven't got anything.'

'Yeah, I hear that all the time, and you know what? I don't believe it. When you come down to it, it's a book. Any religion has to be bigger than that.'

'I'll try that one on Stefan the next time I see him,' Daniels said sarcastically. 'Look, I'm off to compline. Got to show willing in the current atmosphere. I'll see you later.'

He headed off in the growing gloom, shoulders bowed. Mallory watched him go, sympathetic but not surprised. Daniels had been right: winter was going to be hard.

'What are you doing, Mallory?'

Miller's whisper floated out of the dark, startling Mallory who was lying in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. Further down the room, Gardener was snoring as loudly as a chain saw. Daniels had been tossing and turning for an hour, but now seemed to have drifted off.

'Thinking.' He'd actually been tracing the pattern of the dragons on the hilt of his sword in the scabbard that hung from the bed-head. Its response to the Blue Fire barrier in the tunnels that afternoon had brought to a head his growing concerns about it. He recalled what Rhiannon had said about its importance when he had picked it up at the Court of Peaceful Days, but he still couldn't guess its true significance. Sometimes it felt alive in his grasp; when at rest in the scabbard it often appeared to be singing to him, the faint vibration he felt in his leg oddly comforting.

'You're always thinking, Mallory. I watch you, you know.'

'You're starting to scare me now, Miller.'

'All the people around here drift through what's happening, but you pay attention to everything and everybody.' In the dark, Miller's voice sounded small, like a child's. 'You try to pretend you don't care about anything, but I can tell you care a lot… even if you don't see it yourself.'

'You sound like a bad self-help book.' Mallory wondered if he could throw the sword away. At first it had seemed like a valuable, powerful form of protection, but increasingly it was just a reminder of the obligations Rhiannon had attempted to thrust on him: to be a hero, to fight for humanity as some kind of mythical knight, a Brother of Dragons. That had sounded pathetic at the time. Now it was simply irritating him, although he didn't quite know why he felt that way.

'We need you, Mallory.'

The honesty in Miller's voice was affecting; Mallory couldn't come back with a joke. 'You don't need me.'

'You think that because you're strong, everyone else is strong, too, but that's not true. Some people need others to help them along. The strong help the weak — that's how it should be. Things are falling apart here, Mallory. We need you.'

Miller's words were an uncomfortable piece of synchronicity with

Mallory's own thoughts. He usually managed to keep his many doubts locked away behind a patina of arrogance, but at that moment he could barely contain them. 'I was given this sword by someone who felt I should be a hero,' he mused aloud. 'I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they were acting as though I was meant to be there.'

'Maybe it's true what they say — there aren't any coincidences. Everything that happens is meant to happen.'

'Or maybe they just got the wrong bloke.'

Silence consumed them for ten minutes until Miller said, 'What do you see when you close your eyes at night, Mallory?'

A burst of fire in the dark, cleansing, like the flame of a Fabulous Beast. He didn't answer.

'Something bad happened to you before you came here, didn't it?'

Mallory tensed. 'What makes you say that?'

'Like I said, I watch you. Little things you've said… the way you act… the way you won't talk about the life you had before.'

'In this world we've got now, something bad has happened to everyone.'

'It's not healthy to bottle these things up. It affects the way you act… stops you moving on… makes you give up on die life God has planned for you-'

'There you go with that evangelical crap again.'

'You don't have to act with me, Mallory. You can tell me anything, get it off your chest. I'm your friend.' A long pause. 'Aren't I?'

Mallory sighed wearily. 'I'm only saying this because the other two are asleep and it's dark. Yes, I like you, Miller, because you haven't let yourself get eaten up by cynicism like everyone else.'

'Is that it?' Miller sounded disappointed. He covered himself hastily with, 'Look, tell me what happened to you and I'll tell you something bad that happened to me. That's fair. That way we both benefit.'

And Mallory almost did; the feeling that the awful burden that had crushed him for so long was about to be lifted was exhilarating. If he admitted it to himself, Miller was probably the only reason he had decided to stick around after his first beating at Blaine's hands. Whatever Blaine had said, he could have found some way to get out. But he saw in Miller something of himself, before all the misery. It gave him an odd sort of hope, but he didn't want to analyse it too closely. And that was the reason why he couldn't tell him: he couldn't spoil him.

'Go to sleep, Miller,' he said.

He guessed from the silence that he'd hurt Miller's feelings, but he put it out of his mind; he was good at that these days. Gardener and Daniels were silent. The moon broke through the curtains in a band illuminating the far wall. It made him think, oddly, of Sophie. And then he fell asleep.

She was waiting for him in the silvery glade, filled with mysteries and cool, dark depths.

'How do you do this?' he asked. A summery breeze rustled the leaves above his head. 'And, for that matter, where is this?'

'There are more worlds than the one you see around you, Mallory,' she said, walking slowly around the ring of fungi that marked the perimeter of the clearing. 'This one is at the same time in your head and encompassing everything… the universe… everything.'

'Well, that's the kind of mystical bollocks I expect from you.'

'You've learned a little sassiness since our last meeting, I see.' She wasn't offended by his comment and that made him like her even more. 'How do I come here? A few herbs, a little incense, some candle smoke, a small ritual… easy when you know how.'

Recalling their previous meeting when his every emotion had been untrammelled, he struggled to keep control while maintaining a superficially blase appearance. 'And why do you come here to see me?' he said, leaning against a tree as nonchalantly as he could manage. But it was difficult; every fibre of him wanted to feel the sensation of her pressed against his body, forced inside him so he could consume all parts of her.

'It passes the time.' She flashed him a sideways glance, quickly obscured by her hair.

'You said we should stop playing games.' He tried to analyse why he felt so strongly about her, but it escaped all examination: too complex, too deep-seated, too many interrelated subtleties of intellect, emotion and physical appearance. It was simply the way it was, and he had to accept it on those terms.

'I'm not. But,' she added thoughtfully, 'the travelling is half the fun of getting here.'

'Then you haven't been doing it right.'

The glade was filled with a crackling tension, both emotional and sexual. Mallory realised his breathing had become shallow, could see the same quick rise and fall in Sophie's chest. She kept her face turned away from him so he couldn't see her reactions. 'And you've actually had a relationship before? Amazing.'

He was hypnotised by the way she moved, in and out of the circle now, light and supple. 'You've forgiven me, then?' he asked.

'Just about.'

'We're trying to dig a tunnel into your camp.'

She flashed him another look, more suspicious this time. 'We heard the digging. What's going on?'

'We're starting to starve in there… you know those things won't let us in or out. Pretty soon people are going to start dying.'

'And you expect… what? Sympathy? For the people who killed Melanie and Scab?'

Mallory walked into the centre of the circle, turning slowly to follow her. He could barely contain the electric charge in his limbs. 'You're talking about prejudice now… the kind of thing you said your own people face. Yes, there are some unpleasant types in the cathedral… same as everywhere. But a lot of them are good, decent, possibly misguided, but-'

'And what are you asking?'

'For your help.' She didn't show whether she had heard him. 'You can trust me.'

This time she looked up. 'I think I can trust you, Mallory.' She sounded surprised herself. 'But how do I know I can trust the rest of the God Squad?'

'All they want is some food… a way to carry on believing in what they believe in. The same as you.'

Mallory was intrigued to see what looked like moonlight glimmering where her bare feet had just trod. 'So they dig under the wall… what then?'

'The food comes in through your camp to the tunnel. In return, they can offer something… I don't know. See it as trade between nation- states. They've got a good standard of health care… they know about herbs-'

'So do we.'

'And they've got a massive wine cellar and a lake of beer.'

'OK, you sold me.' She laughed. 'Whose idea was this?'

'Mine.'

'Preaching peace and love between men, Mallory? There's hope for you yet.'

'There might have been a slightly more selfish motivation.' Hunger consumed him. In that place where there were no rules and no judgment, he finally accepted he didn't have to pretend.

Her eyes flashed in the moonlight. 'Oh?' A faint smile.

'Well, you won't come to me…'

'Major engineering works, just to see me? How very romantic.' She broke off from her dance and entered the circle to join him. There was nothing coy about her; she was as strong and confident as he was: an equal. All his repressed emotion rushed up and out: his consuming guilt, his fear and, most of all, his love. At that moment, nothing else mattered — all Existence revolved around the two of them.

He grabbed her shoulders forcefully and pulled her forwards. She propelled herself to him with the same hunger. This kiss was so much more than the tentative, desperate first one: it was voracious; all barriers crashed before it. Her skin was hot. Their lips were hard and bruising, their mouths moving with desire, hands raking each other's bodies.

Energy crackled between them: Blue Fire, Mallory thought, filling them, consuming them. From that point, there was no going back.

The next day dawned cold and grey, but Mallory took to it as if it was midsummer. He found time to go up on to the walls so he could look at the trees that lined the hillsides to the south of the city, bare black amid the evergreens. As he slowly made his way along the walkway, enjoying the peace away from the oppressive control of the knights, he became aware of two people talking below him. There was something in the tone of their conversation that caught his attention, a note of deep concern, perhaps of undue seriousness. He peered cautiously over the edge to see James and Julian so engrossed they were oblivious to his presence above them.

'It's outrageous,' Julian said. 'He should be using his position to bring the camps together. He doesn't have a mandate. The election was so close it could have gone either way. And after we all made such a big show of supporting him…'

'There'll be trouble. Some on our side won't toe the line indefinitely for the sake of unity,' James said. He added hopefully, 'Perhaps he won't go down that road. It's all rumour and innuendo-'

'It sounded pretty copper-bottomed when I heard it.' Julian's voice snapped with repressed anger. 'He could split the Church. How stupid is that? We're barely hanging on by our fingernails. To fragment us now could be…' He shook his head. Tears of anger flecked his eyes. 'I can't believe this is happening so soon after Cornelius passed. He'd be outraged, after all he did to bring together all the conflicting factions. Good Lord, even the Baptists. I'm starting to think he should have been a little more exacting in his inclusion policy.'

James clapped him on the shoulder supportively. 'Things have been bad before. We'll pull through, God willing. If things are going the way you say, we have to make a stand. We have to. We can't let the Church be taken over in this way. It would be disastrous. The responsibility is on us to provide a counterbalance.'

'And how do you think he'll respond to that?' Julian said. 'For all his public pronouncements, he's never been one for compromise.'

'Then we'll have a fight on our hands.'

They walked away in the direction of the cathedral, leaving Mallory to ponder on the significance of what they had been discussing.

Most of the knights congregated on the roof at seven p.m., but the Blues were nowhere to be seen. There was an atmosphere of tense anticipation, though oddly hopeful as everyone prepared for the release of pent-up feelings of impotence and inadequacy. Although no one quite knew what it was hoped would be achieved by the planned strike-back, it felt good to be doing anything. And debate raged back and forth about exactly what they were doing; Blaine had given nothing away in his briefing. No one had any idea how they could hit the Adversary's forces from the restricted position of the roof of the cathedral buildings. And even if they could strike the creatures that attacked the walls, how could it possibly amount to the kind of earth-shaking blow Blaine had implied?

Mallory leaned on the stone wall that ran around the edge of the roof area and peered into the sea of dark beneath; it provided no sense of depth, so he had the dizzying sensation that the drop went on for ever. Miller refused to come anywhere near the edge; he complained of vertigo and had almost been physically sick when they had processed on to the roof to see the landscape stretched out all around, bathed in the moonlight shining from a clear sky. Daniels lay glumly against a sloping section, wrapped in his cloak, staring at the stars. Gardener sat with his back to the wall, smoking a roll-up.

The roof was structurally as complex as the new buildings it covered: pitched, tiled sections separated flat areas that could be accessed from the many corridors and rooms that filled the roof spaces; towers, steeples with flag poles and lightning conductors protruded upwards, along with huge gothic gargoyles that had the same unnerving effect as the ones overlooking the great hall. The knights had decamped in little clusters all around, reflecting the small teams that had been established during the training period.

'It's still difficult to comprehend,' Daniels said introspectively. 'We don't know what's out there, in the hills and the fields, in the night.'

'We never did,' Mallory replied. 'I reckon they were always there… sleeping, if you like, hidden away… but they were there, waiting for their time to come around again.'

'No one thought anything like this would happen,' Miller muttered dismally.

'We were arrogant.' Mallory turned to face them, his head spinning as he pulled away from the illusion of the void. 'Because we were top dog on the planet for so long we thought we always would be. But there are things more powerful than us… and now they're back to show us we weren't even close to the top of the pile.'

'You really do have a depressing world view, Mallory,' Daniels said.

'Realistic,' Mallory countered.

There was a quiver of excitement as Blaine and Hipgrave emerged from a door on to one of the flat areas further along the roof. Blaine moved slowly amongst the groups of knights, giving short briefings, taking questions. He had the look of a predatory tiger, and was plainly pleased with how things were going.

When he faced Mallory he couldn't hide a flicker of contempt, but he continued in a measured voice. 'The target will soon be approaching. We will be allocating weapons and ammunition shortly. The aim of this operation is simple: to inflict massive damage on the enemy, to bring it down, to kill it. Success will send an overwhelming message back that we are to be feared.'

'How do you know the target is approaching?' Mallory asked.

Blaine smiled tightly. 'We know — let's leave it at that.'

'What's the target?' Gardener said.

'You've seen it before,' Blaine replied, 'on the night we were first attacked… when you were on your field operation-'

'The Fabulous Beast.' There was a note of disbelief in Mallory's exclamation that drew a suspicious glance from Blaine.

'The flying creature-'

'How can we hit something like that?' Mallory said. 'It's huge… it shoots fire… Anyway, it's not been seen since we were on the Plain. What makes you think it'll be here tonight?'

'It'll be here.' Blaine had grown cold at Mallory's questioning of his big plan and turned his attention to Gardener. 'Yes, it is a big bastard, but we've got the capability to down it. And we'll be helped by the power of the Lord protecting us — it won't be able to see us. It will be able to strike, but only at random.'

'Where are the Blues?' Mallory asked.

'They'll be here,' Blaine said, without looking at him. 'Now, no defeatism and we will win the day.' His comment was clearly aimed at Mallory. 'Captain Hipgrave will be giving direct orders during the attack. Be prepared to respond.' He nodded to them curtly and moved on.

Mallory had conflicting emotions; like the others, he felt good at being able to strike any blow, but there was something about the Fabulous Beast that he admired, the sense of wonder and magic it carried on its wings. It seemed clearly wrong to him to do harm to such a remarkable creature.

Gardener bore a sly smile; Daniels rubbed his hands gleefully. Only Miller showed a hint of being unsure. Mallory let his hands drop to his sides, then yanked them away; the hilt of his sword was almost too hot to touch. He thought of the dragons engraved there, of Rhiannon's talk of a Brotherhood of Dragons, and wondered if there was some overt link with the Fabulous Beast.

The tension increased a notch as the weapons were handed out. Most got some form of rifle — an Armalite — but one group was handed a cumbersome and dated bazooka. 'That should give the bastard a sting,' Gardener said gruffly.

'You really think this is enough?' Mallory said, examining the rifle, which seemed flimsy compared to what they were up against.

'If we're all firing at once,' Miller said. 'You know… someone will hit it.'

'It looked as if it had some kind of plating to me,' Mallory said. 'The scales gleamed as though they were made of metal.' But the others were too caught up in the moment to hear his doubts.

The only reply came from Gardener. 'Don't underestimate Blaine.' And Mallory accepted the truth of that.

They spent the next half-hour craning their necks to examine all quarters of the night sky while trying to guess from which direction it would come; Mallory still couldn't understand how Blaine knew it would be coming. They were interrupted by Miller who said, 'Gosh! Look at that.'

The Blues had emerged on to a large platform about a hundred feet away. They were as perfectly drilled as ever, falling into formation with a fluid ease, adopting postures that made Mallory think of Action Man dolls as they faced the eastern sky. Curiously, he noted that they appeared to be guarding something at the centre of their circle, but it was impossible to make out what it was.

A small team broke off and began to unpack crates on a separate flat section. They worked fast and diligently, gradually assembling the contents. The other knights gaped in awe as it took shape. 'Bloody hell, that's a big bloody gun,' Gardener said. Though still old-fashioned, the two-wheeled gun looked as if it could easily bring down a jet. Mallory's heart sank once more.

Silence fell across the rooftop. With the gun complete, everyone waited. Mallory kept his attention on the main group of the elite cadre. Two knights in the centre of the circle ducked down and a second later a blue incandescence flooded into the air like a searchlight.

'What in heaven's name is that?' Daniels said.

Nobody could guess, but the quality of the light reminded Mallory of the crackling energy that had formed a barrier between this world and the other deep in the catacombs. Instinctively, they all knew what it represented, though: a beacon. They turned to face the east, following the gaze of the Blues.

So heavy was the expectation, it seemed as if they waited an age, though it couldn't have been very long at all. The first burst of light in the distant sky raised a cry of exclamation in several quarters. Some pointed, others yelled for everyone to be prepared. It was coming.

Mallory glanced back at the Blues. 'What are they doing?' he said. 'Are they calling it somehow? What have they got up there?'

But everyone else's attention was fixed on the approaching firestorm. Although they couldn't yet see the beast, a column of flame would erupt down on to the landscape from time to time, followed by a period of stillness, then more flame, much closer. The advance was eerie; all conversation faded away. No one could tear their eyes from the trail of conflagration stretching into the distance.

Somewhere near Old Sarum, trees were burning.

'Nearly here,' Gardener said.

Hands closed tightly around rifles; they felt even more insubstantial. The roar of flame sounded like a blast furnace. A house near the ring road exploded in a shower of tiles and masonry. Echoes of the destruction boomed back and forth amongst the high buildings of the city; falling bricks rattled on rooftops, crashing through some. Smoke swept in along the streets like a river fog; they could all taste it on the wind.

'It looks like hell,' Miller whispered.

Mallory thought he could see the metallic glimmer of scales, red, gold and green, in the firelight. The heavy, rhythmic beating of leather wings filled the air.

Hipgrave appeared with one foot balanced on either side of the roof ridge. A hand shielded his eyes as he watched the Beast's progress. 'Raise your weapons,' he shouted. Across the roof, rifles went up as one.

Mallory had the strange feeling that he was watching the red light of a plane flying across the sky until he realised it was the beast's eye. It moved directly towards them. Although he knew it couldn't see them, he felt distinctly unnerved by its flight path, as if it sensed exactly where they were.

Another column of flame burst from its mouth, this time illuminating the creature clearly for the first time. Its body undulated with serpentine grace, driven forwards by the power of the enormous bat-wings that beat deceptively slowly. The scales covered most of the body, more colourful on the under-surface, darker near the top. A gnarled, bony ridge like the fin of some dinosaur ran along the length of its back. A corresponding bone structure protruded in strange, twisted horns from its head, some small, some larger. A tail lashed the air behind it. The blazing illumination of the flames cast bizarre shadows across its features, giving it a demonic appearance that brought a chill to the assembled knights.

'Take aim,' Hipgrave barked.

The column of fire destroyed the Woolworth's building on the High Street. The fire washed and backwashed as if it was liquid; almost, Mallory thought, as if it was alive. Glass exploded out in glittering shards. The bricks flowed like water under the intense heat. Yet it didn't spread to the adjoining buildings. Instead, it sucked into a tight core that was too bright to stare at; the glow illuminated all of the surrounding streets as if it were daylight.

'Fire!' Hipgrave yelled.

The volley of shots was deafening. Some flew harmlessly out over the rooftops, but several struck the target. Mallory secretly hoped the scales were as hard as they appeared, but he was quickly disappointed. The Beast writhed in pain as the shots rattled into it. With a deft twist, it performed a rapid manoeuvre and soared straight up, too high for their ammunition to reach. But once there, it twisted and rolled in the high winds in some discomfort.

'That was good,' Hipgrave shouted. 'Get set for when it comes back down.'

'What if it stays up there?' Mallory said. 'What if it turns back?'

He saw Blaine away to one side, grinning triumphantly. He looked as though he wasn't expecting any retreat from the Beast at all.

Just as Hipgrave said, it did one final roll and swooped back down, directiy overhead. They all raised their weapons and fired randomly, more out of panic than anything. It was still too high for most of the bullets to reach it.

'Wait for the order!' Hipgrave bellowed.

The Beast came down with the speed of a jet fighter, and it didn't appear to be letting up. The thought ran through all of them at the same time: it was going to smash into them, destroy them and the hated cathedral in a suicide attack. Several knights threw themselves flat and covered their heads.

'Get set!' Hipgrave ordered. 'Fire!'

Another volley of shots burst skyward. This time Mallory heard numerous tiny clangs as some were deflected by the scales, but others pierced their target. The beast writhed in the air, still driving down fast.

'Oh, God!' Miller mewled.

Mallory saw those gleaming red eyes bearing down on him and sensed something numinous lying just behind them. While the others dived for cover, he remained standing, strangely calm, locked into their depths.

At the last moment, when it was about to pile straight into the cathedral, it appeared to sense what lay below and twisted into a horizontal flight that rushed mere feet over them. Mallory was buffeted by turbulence and fought to remain standing. The beating of the wings was deafening, the air filled with the foundry smell of the beast.

As the knights climbed to their feet — some of whose who had cried out now sheepish and furtive — Miller muttered, 'And now it's raining.'

Mallory checked the wetness on the back of his hand. 'Not raining. Blood.' His skin was flecked with droplets of a dark liquid that didn't have the consistency of human blood. There was an odd texture to it, like oil, and he was surprised to feel a sense of wellbeing from its contact. It remained for a second or two, then faded away as mysteriously as it had come.

'At least we've hurt the bastard,' Gardener grunted. 'Blaine was right — they're not as big and powerful as we thought.'

'Flesh wounds,' Daniels said. 'We've got a long way to go yet. Look at it.'

The Beast swooped and rolled on the currents above the city, filled with grace and power; it was a sight that brought awe to all of them, despite themselves.

'I'm not sure about this,' Mallory said, marvelling at the Beast's flight.

Gardener flashed him a suspicious glance. 'What do you mean?'

'It's not right to loll it. What good would that do?'

'Send a message,' Gardener said.

'Is that a good enough reason for destroying a living thing?'

'Steady on, Mallory. You're starting to sound like me.' Miller grinned at him, then turned to the others. 'He's right, I think. Look at it — it's an amazing creature. It would be like shooting a horse or something.'

'Don't start going down that road,' Gardener growled. 'Bloody defeatists. Daniels, what do you think?'

Daniels was checking his gun over. 'I'm just following orders.'

'That's why we have leaders,' Gardener continued. 'To sort out what's right and wrong so we can be free to get down to business.'

'I can't begin to tell you how so wrong that line of thinking is,' Mallory said sharply. He was interrupted by Hipgrave ordering them to prepare for another attack. Gardener mumbled something under his breath that sounded very much like an insult.

The Fabulous Beast performed an immaculate loop over the city and prepared for another attack. Mallory glanced over at the Blues. The big gun still hadn't been used, though the crew aiming it was poised. The Beast had so far proved too fast and agile, but Blaine's tactics were clear: he would wait to give the order until the Beast was slowed by its wounds.

The creature skimmed the rooftops, eyes blazing, smoke streaming from its mouth and nose. The sight was so terrifying, Mallory saw the faces around him go rigid. Yet he didn't feel that what he saw there was driven by hatred of humanity, or hunger, or some nebulous Christian concept of Evil. It was something primal, but also oddly innocent.

The guns on every side were levelled at it. They had seemed pathetic before, but now he was not so sure: a thousand tiny blows were as good as one big one.

Go away, Mallory prayed silently. Leave, before you're hurt. He surprised himself with the notion.

He raised his gun with the others, but when the order came he didn't pull the trigger. What was the reason for his odd empathy with the creature? The sound of gunfire made his ears ache. The creature snapped out of its flight path. Every hit made his insides knot.

When it looped around to strike again, its movements were noticeably slower. The wings were beating more heavily and there was a perceivable wobble in its lithe undulations.

'This is it,' Gardener said.

Why doesn't it use its fire? Mallory thought. Even if the site was protected, it couldn't possibly know that.

The Beast came in low over the rooftops once again. This time, Hipgrave looked to Blaine before telling them to hold their fire. The Blues manning the big gun moved quickly, tracking the Beast's trajectory.

Mallory's heart took a dip. His gun slipped from his fingers, dropping to the roof with a clatter.

The retort of the big gun boomed across the cathedral compound. The Fabulous Beast was frozen in Mallory's mind just beyond the cathedral walls, its red eyes glowing with a fierce, alien intelligence; not even the explosion of the gun going off could force him to tear his gaze from it. Everyone around was caught in states of jubilation and shock.

And then it all erupted in a chaotic jumble of images. The Fabulous Beast was hit square on. There was an explosion; blue light flashed everywhere. Through his ringing ears, Mallory thought he could hear a sound like the wind in the mountains, and then the Beast was thrown back and up. It came down quickly, its wings unmoving, its eyes no longer burning.

It hit the shopping arcade hard, flattening buildings, raising a tremendous cloud of billowing dust. It skidded for a way, bringing down more shops, before coming to rest. The night was filled with the sound of tumbling masonry.

'They did it,' Daniels said in blank disbelief. 'They killed it.'

A loud cheer rose up from the knights. The Fabulous Beast was obscured by the buildings all around, but there was no doubt that Daniels was right. Mallory turned away, desperately troubled and shocked, not knowing why he felt that way.

Across the roof, the blue beacon winked out as the elite knights ended whatever they had set in motion and then quickly made their way back into the cathedral.