The Devil in Green (49 page)

Just when the sensation became almost unbearable, it faded. A moment
later, he saw a figure move across one of the illuminated pathways, but it
appeared insubstantial, wavering as if seen through a heat haze. Even at
that distance, and with the features hidden by a cowl, he recognised it
immediately as the brother who had turned and looked at him during
compline shortly after his arrival at the cathedral. As then, he was deeply
unnerved for no reason he could explain.

Duncan interrupted his thoughts with a barked warning. A man, weak
and staggering, was just passing through the shadows surrounding
St Thomas' Church on the other side of Bridge Street. 'Bloody idiot,'
Duncan said. 'Don't the locals know not to come around here any more?'

'That's a knight,' Gardener said at the same instant that they all saw the
cross glowing through the gloom.

'It's Hipgrave.' Mallory recognised the body language despite the
rolling gait.

His confusion at Hipgrave's survival was washed away by the certain
knowledge that the captain wouldn't last much longer. Already the
shadows behind and around him were beginning to thicken.

'Poor bastard,' Duncan said.

Gardener looked down, sickened. 'I can't see this again.'

Mallory tried to turn away himself, but he was rooted. For a few
seconds, he wavered, before cursing, 'Oh, bollocks to it.' He prepared to
lever himself over the edge.

Julian caught his arm. 'You're mad!'

'It's the job I chose so I've only got myself to blame,' Mallory replied,
still wavering himself.

Gardener gave him a shove so hard he almost rolled over the top. 'Stop
gassing about it, then,' he said, joining Mallory on the wall.

The silent acceptance of their responsibility flashed between them in a
glance before they clambered over the top, hanging for a second before
dropping to the ground. They hit the road running as fast as they could.
Hipgrave was so dazed he hadn't seen them.

The miniature army was forming thick and fast, seemingly from the
very shadows themselves, the gloom twisting and shaping as if it were
Plasticine.

Mallory and Gardener reached Hipgrave together, each taking an arm.
Their appearance shocked him from his daze, but he didn't have the
strength to speak; his eyes rolled in fear.

'Don't worry, man,' Gardener said to him. 'We'll have you back in no
time.'

They both saw that was a lie the moment they started to haul Hipgrave
towards the gates. The road was already blocked by the pale black-eyed
people.

'I knew I shouldn't have let you talk me into this,' Gardener said.

'Yeah, an old bloke like you should have more sense.' Mallory looked
around; the only way out was through the maze of ancient streets
surrounding the cathedral compound. 'This way. We might be able to
find somewhere to hole up.'

'You heard what they said, you stupid bastard. The only reason these
fuckers can't get into the cathedral is because it's sacred ground. Anywhere else and they'll be in like shit off a shovel.'

'Just shut up and run.'

They each slipped an arm around Hipgrave's back to lift him and ran.
As they headed into New Street, Mallory realised what they had to do. 'We
need to get through to the camp at Queen Elizabeth Gardens.'

'Why?' Gardener grunted.

'Because it's protected, like the cathedral's protected.'

'How can it be?'

'It just is.' Mallory glanced back. The army had rounded the corner in
pursuit, their eeriness magnified by their silence and speed, their small
stature oddly making them even more threatening. They surged along
New Street at a run, spreading out to cover the whole road, weapons
lowered for use.

'How do you know?' Gardener pressed. His voice held a note of
suspicion.

'I just do.' Mallory didn't meet his eye.

They hauled Hipgrave as fast as they could into the nearby shopping
precinct, taking refuge inside W H Smith's, which had been cleared out by
looters. The first floor was pitch black, but they managed to find the door
into the staff area and then made their way up to the roof. The army at
their heels didn't relent, but Mallory's circuitous route got them to a point
where they could make a break for the travellers' camp.

It was only then that Mallory noticed something that shocked him. 'He's
still got both his hands.' Confused, he grabbed Hipgrave's wrists and held
them out so Gardener could see.

'So?'

'I told you I found a severed hand at Bratton Camp. It had to be one of
ours. It wasn't there on the way in, but it was when we came out.'

Gardener waved him away; he didn't have time for such things. 'Ah,
you've got it all wrong-headed.'

The mystery made Mallory's spine tingle. It hinted at something
important just beyond his reach, the difference between life and death, if
only he could access it.

When they crashed across the invisible boundary surrounding the camp,
Mallory felt for the first time whatever protective force lay there. Outside,
the air was charged with tension; inside, it felt so peaceful that he began to
calm almost immediately.

'We're safe.' Mallory reached out a calming hand, but Gardener
knocked it away instinctively. It was only when the pale-skinned people
surged around the invisible boundary before retreating back into the night
that he began to relax.

Slowly coming to his senses, Gardener began to take in the unique
mood of the camp, the flag with its entwining dragons, the colourfully
dressed people cautiously venturing towards them. His face hardened.
'What is this? Bloody travellers?'

'We're safe,' Mallory repeated, recognising the signs of righteousness
rising in Gardener's eyes.

'They're not Christians, you know.' Gardener raised his sword menacingly towards the approaching travellers.
'A
lot of them are pagans . . .
witches . . .'

Mallory recognised one
of
them from the group he brought back with
Sophie from the Plain.
Scab
was unmistakable, with his shock of bright
green hair and a T-shirt that bore the manifest colour sense of an
LSD
user.

'Back off!' Gardener yelled, brandishing his sword. 'Back off!' The
expression on his face was so terrifying that the youth blanched and froze
in his tracks.

'Gardener, chill,' Mallory said. 'They're just normal—'

'Witches,' Gardener said, with restrained fury. 'Bloody Satan-worshippers. Come on, Mallory, you know the score. They're probably the reason
the Adversary is after us. They're probably helping him!'

'You're talking bollocks now.'

Gardener rounded on him, eyes blazing. Mallory could see in them the
frightening depth of Gardener's bigotry, fuelled by fear and ignorance.
'What's wrong with you?' Gardener snarled. 'Are you on their side? Is this
some kind of trap?'