'You can stay if you wish. Your mind is exceedingly vexed tonight. You might do something rash that could jeopardize your followers, or your own life.'
You hag! I'm more than capable of looking after myself. 'Your concern for my well-being brings a tear to my eye.'
*
He had fallen asleep, but remembered weeping before he had drifteff. Through bleary eyes he watched Sycoraxe close the door behiner, a macabre smile on her lips, flecks of blood splashed on her cheeks.
'I have finished my preparations,' she announced. 'Three hours it has taken me. Three hours! And during that time, my books and theories have proven correct.'
'What d'you mean?' he eyed her with caution. Faintly, he heard a growl coming from somewhere. In triplicate? It was too dark to fathom much of what was going on.
'Come, let me show you what has been created.'
It took an effort to pick himself off the chair and follow her upstairs. He felt he was still involved in some weird nightmare as she pushed open the door to her workspace.
Smoke burst out, and some smell he couldn't place, then a strong musk followed a deeply animal aroma. The rumbles grew intense, then he saw the eyes first, three pairs of them. Dirty yellow, they were focused right on him. A momentary fear paralysed any movement.
'What… the fuck… is this?'
'Cerberus, that's what it is. Three heads denoting the past, present and future. You look concerned.'
Too right I am. The creature stood slightly taller than himself, with a shiny fur coat and jaws that looked capable of shattering stone. There was something almost human about each head, and when he squinted, he could make out anthropoid features shifting beneath the flesh of the skull as if trying painfully to push free. The three necks were pulled taut, tendons flaring with a deep aggression. They acted independently of one another, as if three creatures were inhabiting a single entity, then suddenly they would become as one, something completely at accord with its own evil.
'What does it… do?' A vague question, and one more concerned with his own safety than its true purpose.
'It knows her scent. It knows yours, too. It will hunt her through the streets of this city and fetch her back. When it does so, it will consume her.'
'As in… eat?'
'There are souls trapped within it. When it takes hers, it will join them, and thus any traces of her influence on your mind will be erased. Her soul will go to the hell realm, or so I believe.'
Cerberus lumbered up to him, each of its three heads shifting independently. Muscles rippled beneath its fur, strongly noticeable even in this dreary light. Malum could smell the creature's rank breath and pondered at the cause of that. A head came looming down towards him, till it was almost up against his face, baring its canine jaws. But Malum stood firm, not wanting to give ground despite the threat, almost wanting to growl back. The other two heads began to sniff at him, analysing his scent as if to confirm something they already knew.
'I'm not scared of you,' Malum breathed. He narrowed his eyes, and could sense that the old crone was eager with anticipation. 'How does it know who to kill? Will it go around ripping to pieces every person it encounters in the streets?'
'No more than you would do.'
'I select my targets,' he snapped, returning his gaze to Cerberus. 'I'm no random killing machine.'
'Hmm. Well, in answer to your question, it already knows her scent.'
'Then send it off, and let's get this business over with.'
Sycoraxe hobbled up to the creature and breathed something into Cerberus's nearest ear. She then led it downstairs and Malum followed, watching it descend with its awkward gait.
The mass of black paused in the street as snow spiralled about it. Both moons glowed diffusely beneath a thin layer of cloud hanging low in the west, but above the city itself there hovered the remnants of a sudden blizzard. Cressets and oil lamps glowed from inside neighbouring houses. Cerberus was kicking plumes of snow around, curious and disturbingly ludic, then with a word from Sycoraxe's mouth it ceased, and came to attention.
She uttered another order, and the gargantuan beast lumbered off into the night.
*
'Are you happy now?'
'Yes, of course I am,' Beami replied. 'Relieved too, and happier once I collect the rest of my things. I suspect I'll miss him for a while.'
'Really?'
'It's from habit more than anything else, I guess. Any new routine makes me feel unsettled. I know instinctively I've made the right decision; it doesn't stop me from feeling like a shit.'
Lupus seemed to half expect some thanks from her, and tried to probe her mind further. 'Do you reckon that my staying here, you know, in Villiren, helped things along?'
'I'd taken other lovers after you,' Beami interrupted, and the sudden disappointment in his eyes forced her to continue quickly. Men and their egos… 'They just helped me through when I needed a little help. When I wanted to feel something, before I met him. This isn't only about you. It never was – much as I adore you. It is about getting away from… him. I suppose I could have gone and stayed with Zizi or someone, but I wanted to make a clean break.'
'I'm fine with that, really,' Lupus replied.
He had helped move her into a safe apartment half a mile from the Ancient Quarter, near one of the major stairwells that led down to the escape tunnels, ever concerned for her safety during any forthcoming fighting. It was a plain room, with unattractive furniture, but at least it was her own. He had asked her if she wanted to invite some of her friends from the Symbolist, in fact was hoping to meet them himself, but she declined, preferring something altogether calmer tonight. So while she unpacked he purchased coloured lanterns and cheap food and made a fire. He rustled up a traditional slave dish from the ore-mining days, and they were able to make a night of things. She drank beer from the bottle faster than he could, like they used to.
Later, after several quick alcohol-tinged kisses, they lay on the bed feeling quite separated from everyday life, listening to the sounds of the city nearby, louder than her old home, more sporadic, more unsettling. She didn't like living near two bordellos situated on the south side of the street. He couldn't resist some cheap jokes, and within the minute her hands were moving down towards his breeches.
*
Later, she joined Lupus in peering out of the window. It overlookene of the rare crooked streets that curved away from the Ancient Quarter. The original gothic architectures had been preserved anere well lit by torches and storm lanterns. Two teenagers wearinarish masks shuffled by drunkenly, their arms around each other, anhey walked right past the man sheltering in a doorway without givinim a second glance. Their raucous laughter could be heard echoinrom a nearby alleyway.
Suddenly something lumbered briefly across the periphery of his vision.
Beami must have noticed his reaction because she said, 'What's wrong?'
He glanced instinctively over to his compound bow resting in the corner, then to the quiverful of arrows slung from her bedpost.
'There's something out there,' he said, trying to see where it had gone. 'There it is again, something black and bulky, a sharp contrast against the snow.'
'It's probably nothing, I wouldn't worry.'
There was a scream, followed by 'Oh no… no please shit no-'
'The homeless man's gone.'
There was a noise she couldn't place, like a dog growling.
'Would Malum have come after us?' he asked nervously.
'Possibly.'
'Look down there.' Lupus pointed to where the snow was stained by flecks of blood.
'Maybe this area is rougher than we thought,' Beami said uneasily.
He moved to the bed, slung the quiver over his shoulder, picked up his bow, then checked there was still a
