Engines of the Apocalypse

cathedral, the front of which, by the time they arrived, was filled with people considerably more sober than they. The two of them were content with a place in the jostling crowd, but one look from a guard at their invitation had them elevated to the front platform where they were positioned instead alongside Freel, the Anointed Lord and a number of dignitaries including Cardinal Kratos and General McIntee.

Freel nodded as they took their places. Makennon, however, did not even acknowledge their presence, remaining aloof. Whether that was because she was maintaining her public face or, as Kali suspected, this whole thing and their part in it had been Freel's idea and Makennon resented it, she didn't know — but it was interesting to note that the Faith's new enforcer seemed far more willing to adopt a prominent public role than Konstantin Munch had ever done.

Quite what he intended to do with it was a matter for another day.

Bells rang, silencing the crowd, and Makennon's address began. Kali was hardly surprised that in the Anointed Lord's account of the events in the Sardenne, neither she nor Slowhand got a mention, and in fact she had difficulty recognising any of it. All the crowd seemed to want to hear, however, was that — aided by the Lord of All — the forces of the Final Faith had defeated their First Enemy and that once again its flock could look forward to the glory of the day of ascension. The very mention of the word brought a rousing cheer from the crowd, and both Kali and Slowhand shuffled uneasily as the all too familiar mantra began to sound from the crowd, growing in volume with each repetition.

'The One Faith!'

'The Only Faith!'

'The Final Faith!'

Eventually, the Anointed Lord raised a hand, and the crowd lapsed into silence. Bells rang once more, but this time more slowly, a dirge rather than a call to attention. Makennon nodded to Cardinal Kratos and the robed figure moved solemnly forward. He began, as was way of these things, to intone platitudes about the dead.

The names were read out, the accompanying comments saying nothing at all about the people who had died, or what had led them to make the sacrifices they had made. As banality followed banality, Slowhand saw the growing tension in Kali's face. The thing about Hooper was that she never got drunk unless she wanted to or she was upset. It was almost as if she could open a sluice gate somewhere halfway down her throat, and all the alcohol she consumed simply went somewhere else. Today, however, that sluice gate had remained firmly closed, and while he'd thought she was handling herself well, considering the amount of thwack they'd poured down their necks, he now saw that slightly unfocused look in her eyes.

Trouble was brewing, he knew it.

Sure enough, as the roll call of the dead reached Gabriella DeZantez and the platitudes began to spout, Kali suddenly lurched forward and shoved the cardinal out of the way. The noise Kratos made as he tumbled down the platform's wooden steps were amplified by the complex arrangement of shells positioned around the podium to amplify speech, and three quarters of Scholten gasped.

Behind Kali the Swords of Dawn honour guard reached for their weapons, but a subtle shake of the head from Makennon halted them.

'You want to know about Gabriella DeZantez?' Kali began. 'I'll tell you about Gabriella DeZantez…'

As Kali began to speak about the woman she had known, her loyalty, her dedication, her embarrassing laugh and even her eyes, Slowhand stared at the back of Kali's head and mouthed, goodbye. He had decided that morning that it was time to go, that he had to spend time away from Hooper and work out what was to happen in the future on his own, and now was as good a time as any. Maybe he'd be back, maybe not, but whatever happened he knew that at least Kali had another friend she could rely on, one within the Faith itself.

Slowhand nodded to Jakub Freel as he made his way off the platform and down into the crowd. Kali was in full swing now and didn't notice him go.

'…if it wasn't for Gabriella DeZantez,' Kali shouted, pointing at the Anointed Lord, 'this woman would be spending the rest of her life with tassels on her tits!'

Slowhand smiled, working his way through the crowd. A few days ago he'd have stopped to help with the commotion that comment would cause, but Hooper would be all right.

Look after her, Prince Jakub Tremayne Freel, he thought.

What Slowhand did not know was that as he had left the platform and stared into the eyes of the Faith enforcer, it had been Bastian Redigor staring back.