This gathering of spirits was revolving around something hidden in the centre of the cavern, something that glowed with the baleful red light that had attracted me here. I squinted to determine the source, and through the whirling clouds of gauze-like spirits I made out a narrow oval shape floating in mid-air, around eight feet tall with indistinct edges. The red light came from within, and the effect was like peering through an open door into a boiler's fire box. I had seen something similar in the professor's cellar, only on a much smaller scale. It had come into being when he'd started his attractor machine, opening what looked like a gate into a hellish, otherworldly place.
This, then, must be a portal, and it could only have been opened by Edgar's scaled-up version of the professor's machine. It was a rent in the very fabric of our world, and the power it exuded was drawing spirits and phantoms from all over the city. But had anything come through from the other side?
There was a temporary gap in the whirling spirits, and at that moment I saw more details. The first was a wooden bench, low to the ground, and upon it lay a motionless figure, bound hand and foot. Light from the portal gleamed on naked flesh, but at this distance I could not see whether the person was male or female. Standing beyond this unfortunate was my nemesis, Edgar, and reddish light glinted on the cruel, long-bladed knife in his hand.
But the scar-faced man was not alone. Standing on the near side of the bench, looking down at the victim, was a tall man, elegantly dressed in coat and tails. He carried a cane and wore a top hat, and looked for all the world like a dandy out on the town. I had a sudden crazed notion that this was Charles, Roberta's suitor, but I dismissed it. This man was taller, and I could see grey hair beneath the brim of his hat. Even as I watched, he signalled to Edgar, then gestured at the unfortunate tied to the bench.
To my horror, Edgar crouched and drew his knife swiftly across the naked victim's throat. Blood welled up, deeper and redder than that hellish light bathing the scene, but the poor victim of his blade did not move. Were they bound so tightly as to make movement impossible, or had they mercifully been reduced to unconsciousness before they were brutally slain?
I recoiled in horror at the ghastly sight, and as rivulets of blood ran down the victim's neck to splash on the ground beneath the wooden bench, a cry escaped my lips. It was not only the horror of the murder that shocked me, but also the sudden widening of the portal, for it had grown larger at the moment of the killing.
Unfortunately, I had larger concerns than the growing portal. The moment I cried out, the tall, well-dressed man turned in my direction, looking directly into my eyes. His face was twisted by blood-lust and fury, but I knew him all the same.
The man with the top hat, the man directing Edgar, was none other than Lord Snetton.
Chapter 36
I stood rooted to the spot, shocked beyond measure. Lord Snetton! He was behind the killings? Was Edgar nothing more than a hapless pawn in his master's devilish plans?
Snetton's features relaxed as he spied me, and suddenly he smiled. It was not an evil sneer, but the self-confident look of a man completely in command. And, to prove it, he raised his cane and pointed the tip at me. Instantly, the whirling phantasms formed into a stream, and after a half-circuit of the cavern they came straight towards my location. Edgar, meanwhile, sprang right over the unfortunate victim and started to run towards me. There was an intent look in his eye, and he gripped that knife as though he were most desperately keen to use it.
I did not hesitate. I turned and fled, my feet slipping and skidding on the loose soil underfoot. As I did so, Lord Snetton laughed long and hard, the sound magnified by that huge chamber. The echoes chased me along the tunnel, but I dared not look back because I knew what I would see… an army of spirits, each and every one of them ordered to chase me until I dropped, exhausted beyond measure. And then, when I could move no more, they would strip my life force and carry it back to their master so that he might feast on it. And afterwards, would Edgar take my near-dead body and tie it to that bench, in order to finish me utterly and completely?
But for now I was ahead of the spirits, and the scar-faced man with his bloodied knife, and I ran for all I was worth. The revolver was in my hand, and as I ran I pointed it behind myself, firing off two shots in the hope they would dissuade my human pursuer at least. The reports were deafening, and as the echoes faded I heard fragments of tiles smashed from the walls, and the whine of spent bullets ricocheting down the tunnel.
I ran on until I saw the haversacks propped against the wall where I'd left them. Was there anything inside I could use? There was no time for nets, and the small discs had been drained of their power, but Roberta's curious tool might hold the spirits at bay while I held Edgar off with my pistol.
I was approaching the bags fast, and had to make a decision. Unfortunately, I still had no idea how close my pursuers were. I risked a glance, and then came to a halt, breathing heavily and surprised beyond measure. In the distance, the spirits had turned about and were streaming back to the chamber. And of Edgar there was no sign. I squinted into
