For Heaven's Eyes Only

and hide somewhere the day she arrives.”

“Lot of people feel that way about Ammonia Vom Acht,” I said.

“I still want to know who or what is living in the Old Library, along with the Librarian,” the Sarjeant said determinedly. “I am referring to whatever it was that scared the crap out of the Immortal posing as Rafe. You were there, Eddie, when whatever it was stopped Rafe from killing the Librarian. What did you see?”

“I keep telling you,” I said, “I didn’t see anything. All I could feel was this . . . presence. Big and powerful and dangerous, but not like anything I’ve ever encountered before. William . . . William! Do you have anything you want to contribute?”

“Something’s there,” said William, nodding wisely. “Something very old, I think. Watching me, or watching over me. It’s so hard to be sure. . . . It steals my socks, you know.”

“We can’t have someone or something unknown running loose in the Old Library!” said the Sarjeant.

“We’ve already run the exorcism engine three times!” said the Armourer. “None of my equipment was able to detect anything!”

“Why not let the Vom Acht woman have a crack at it?” I said. “If she really is the top-ranking telepath she’s always claimed, she should be able to pin it down. Or at least tell us what it is we’re dealing with.”

“She might not survive such a close encounter,” said the Armourer. “You saw the state of the Immortal after we dragged him out of the Old Library.”

“Get her to work on William first,” the Sarjeant said wisely. “Then have her scan the Old Library. And she might die, you say? Excellent. A plan with no drawbacks.”

“You’ve got cold, Cedric,” said the Armourer.

“I was born cold,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“Some days you can’t breathe in here for testosterone,” said Molly.

“Have we finally finished all the family business?” I said. “I really would like to talk about my encounter with the first well-organised, worldwide Satanist conspiracy in sixty years!”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it, Eddie?” said Harry.

“Far more often than it’s about you, Harry,” I said.

I ran through everything that happened at Lightbringer House, with Molly chipping in now and then to add details. There were certain parts I chose to leave out, mostly concerning Isabella, but I couldn’t leave her out entirely. I was pretty sure she’d be inviting herself back in again at some point. William actually brightened up a bit at the mention of her name.

“Very healthy young girl!” he said loudly. “Got a good pair of legs on her. They go all the way up to her arse. I don’t know why you insist on keeping her out of the Old Library, Sarjeant. She can come and visit me anytime. . . .”

“She can’t have access, because she isn’t family,” said the Sarjeant.

“Oh, let the girl in,” said William. “I could show her a few things. Oh, yes. I may be insane, but I’m not crazy.”

“Dirty old man,” said Molly, in a not entirely disapproving way.

“Moving on,” I said deliberately. “I’m mostly concerned about Alexandre Dusk, and the Great Sacrifice he was talking about.”

“It is a worry, yes,” said the Sarjeant. “But I don’t see anything serious enough in this that we should make it a top priority.”

“What?” I said. “Are you out of your mind, Cedric? A Satanist conspiracy involving every government in the world, talking about a satanic coup so big it could debase all Humanity, and let loose the Great Beast himself . . . and you don’t see that as a top priority?”

“It’s just Satanists,” said the Sarjeant. “They always talk big. We’ll keep an eye on them, certainly. Gather information, see who’s actually involved and what they might have going for them. . . . I’ll delegate one of our field agents to infiltrate Lightbringer House.”

“I could do that!” I said immediately. “I could go in as Shaman Bond!”

“The council has a far more important mission in mind for you,” said Harry. “Important and urgent. You’ll need to be ready for insertion first thing tomorrow morning.”

“What?” I said. “I’ve only just got back from being dead!”

“No rest for the wicked,” the Armourer said solemnly. “I can always whip up one of my special pep-you-up tonics, if you like.”

“No, I do not like,” I said. “Grandmother used to dose me with your tonics all the time I was growing up, and they always tasted vile.”

“That’s how you know it’s doing you good,” said the Armourer. “You always got a nice chocolate afterwards, didn’t you?”

“There isn’t a chocolate in the world that could take away the taste of your tonics!”

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” said the Armourer. He shook his head slowly. “An actual Satanist conspiracy, after all these years. I always have trouble taking them seriously. It’s all a bit too much Dennis Wheatley, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Who?” said Harry.

“You know,” said Roger. “The Devil Rides Out, that was him. The old Hammer horror film we watched on DVD last week. Most of the people in my circles think it’s a classic. We all love Charles Gray as the coven leader, Mocata. Very sinister. He made being a Devil worshipper look so damned cool. Mocata was supposedly based on Aleister Crowley, but I am here to tell you, Crowley was never that impressive. Or even that dignified. Hell of a mountain climber, though.”

“Have you heard anything about this new conspiracy?” I said. “These are your people, aren’t they?”

“Oh, please! Hardly,” said Roger. “They’re nothing but wannabes, whereas I am the real thing. There have always been satanic conspiracies, but none of them were ever as powerful or as important as they liked to think.”

“Yes, well,” said Molly, “you would say that, wouldn’t you? Do you know anything about Alexandre Dusk and his proposed Great Sacrifice?”

“Haven’t heard anything,” said Roger.

We all waited, but he had nothing more to say. Even Harry was looking at Roger thoughtfully, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I have to ask,” I said, looking round the council. “Given that there is an unquestionably real satanic conspiracy, is there, in fact, a good-guy equivalent? Apart from us, obviously.”

“There are other organisations on the side of the Light,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms. “And any number of powerful individuals, like the Lord of Thorns, in the Nightside; and the Walking Man, the wrath of God in the world of men. . . .”

“I was thinking of something more specific,” I said. “Are there agents of good in the world, to match the agents of evil?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said the Armourer. “There is . . . the Emmanuel.”

Everyone seemed to sit up a little straighter. Even William was giving the conversation his full attention, such as it was.

“Emmanuel,” said William. “Literally, ‘God with us.’”

“Is that a person or an organisation?” I said.

“Good question,” said the Armourer. “Nobody knows. Or at least, no one knows for sure. This family has had dealings with the Emmanuel, down the centuries. When we knew for sure that we were in way out of our depth. According to family records, and these are very secret and very private records, the Emmanuel is extremely powerful, and not to be summoned lightly.”

“All right,” I said. “What’s the big secret here? What does the Emmanuel do?”

“He answers questions,” said William. “Truthfully. He knows everything there is to know about people, places and the true nature of reality. Which can be . . . very upsetting. Not to mention downright disturbing. We do have a book of his recorded sayings in the Old Library. It’s locked shut, in half a dozen different and very thorough ways, and on the front cover someone has stamped the words ‘Do Not Open Till Doomsday.’ I for one can take a hint.”

“He can do . . . pretty much whatever he feels like doing,” said the Armourer. “I never met him, but Mother