didn't take her chance here with Liam. Nothing else mattered. Not the cure, not the world, nothing.
In that instant, Caitlin looked at the thing and through it into the House of Pain itself and saw something of herself in the Void. They were all joined by the despair at the heart of human existence.
'No,' she said. 'I'm not giving him up. He's going to live. He's going to live!'
She didn't waste a second thinking about what she had done. She felt his body become warm and alive again, and she hugged him to her, and buried her face in his hair.
Her choice had been made. Outside in the dusty, sweltering heat, Mahalia sensed a change. She looked up from tending the professor to see the warriors of the Djazeem break from their defensive position and start to drift away down the corridor through the army of the Lament-Brood.
Mahalia watched them with incomprehension, followed by mounting dismay. Soon there would be nothing to hold the Lament-Brood at bay. As she gazed over the disappearing column, she had the impression of a tiny figure or two moving in the opposite direction through the heat haze. Before she could decide if it was a trick of the light or her eyes, the professor coughed up a gout of blood.
Mahalia slipped a comforting arm around his shoulders. Anyone could see that he didn't have long left. She'd tried to stem the blood that now soaked all the way through his overcoat, but it was like trying to hold back the rain. His head lolled on to his chest, and she thought that he had already gone, but then his hands went shakily up to the mask, and it fell limply into his palms. He tossed it to one side and looked up at her with eyes so haunted that she was truly shocked. His face looked like a skull, the skin drawn tight and as white as snow, everything vital sucked out of him.
'He doesn't want me now.' Mahalia was stunned by the bitterness in his voice. 'He's drained me dry and now he's ready to move on to the next victim,' Crowther continued.
'How are you feeling?'
'Like death. How do you think I'm feeling?' He caught himself and forced a wan smile. 'I'm sorry, Mahalia. Thank you for staying with me. I didn't expect anyone would. I've not made much good of myself.'
'That's not true! You saved us — twice.'
He accepted her point. 'But still, I could have done so much more, couldn't I? If I hadn't been so weak. I suppose we're not all cut out to be heroes.'
Honest tears burned her eyes at the self-loathing that consumed him. She didn't want him to die that way, thinking his life was without value, but every time she tried to find the words they caught in her throat and she had to fight to stop herself crying.
He understood what she was trying to do, for his smile became more natural. 'Don't worry about me, young 'un. I had my chances. I made my choices and I've got no one else to blame — I'm quite at ease with it all.' A twitch around his mouth showed the lie.
'Professor,' she choked, 'I don't want you to die, too.'
'I know, and I'm so sorry to be doing this to you. I know you've been abandoned at every turn… your parents… Carlton… You deserve so much more.' He fumbled around as if his vision was fading and eventually caught hold of her hand. 'You need to change your thinking, little girl. You're not what you think — you're a good person, a very good person. I know you're a crotchety, miserable young sociopath, but that's by the by. The only one holding you back is you. And I only wish I truly could have saved you, because I know you'll go on to better things.'
Her tears blinded her. 'I'm not like that, Professor-'
'You are, yes, you are.' He coughed; more blood. 'Fading fast now. What a way to go. I always dreamed it would be a Gary Cooper scenario, not slumped here like some drunken old tramp who's had his throat cut. Still, we're all heroes in our own minds, aren't we?' He pulled her closer. 'Listen to me.' His voice was so frail now. 'The only thing I can give you is a lesson. It might be the only valuable thing I've ever done, my one shot at redemption, but that will be down to you… whether you heed it or ignore it. Not to put too much pressure on you.'
She pressed her face next to his greasy hair, smelled sweat and his own peculiar musk, not unpleasant. 'I'm listening. I'll… I'll heed it.'
'Wait until you hear what I have to say first.' Even close to death there was still a snap in his voice. 'I made my mistakes a long time ago. I got lost, wandered away from the path I should have been following because I indulged all my weaknesses. There's a line in A Christmas Carol, where Marley's ghost is telling Scrooge where he's gone wrong… He says, Humanity is your business! And that's true… so true. Humanity is your business, Mahalia, not looking after your own selfish interests. Helping the people who need you, helping everyone you can. I never did that. I abandoned my family… all the people I loved and who loved me. I did it because I thought I was weak, and if you think you're weak, you are weak. I still think I'm weak, and look at me now!' He gave a short, bubbling laugh.
'Don't…'
'No, you listen to me… for once in your life! Your whole future is in your own hands. You can amount to something… or you can carry on down the path you've set yourself on. And you'll carry on down it a little way and realise you can't go back, and all your future is mapped out for you. You'll just have to live it out, knowing how bad it's going to be… like waiting for a bus that you know will never come.'
'I'll do what you say. I will!' She was crying openly now.
'No! Don't tell me now because it won't mean anything. You need to think about this, and turn it over, for days or weeks… if that time is available to you… if you stand a chance of getting out of this mess. And you need to remember this moment… look at me — look at me, damn you! — you need to remember this moment, and how pathetic I am… and think about what I could have been if only I'd tried. Remember that… think about a life wasted… by my own hand… Nobody to blame for my fate but myself. If I hadn't got myself into this state, that mask would never have been able to control me… and then…' His chin dropped down and he stared into the middle distance.'… maybe everything would have turned out OK.'
Mahalia's attention was caught by movement. She looked up to see the last of the Djazeem warriors disappear down the corridor and then, a second or so later, the Lament-Brood began to move forward in their awkward zombie style.
Crowther saw the growing panic in her face. 'What's wrong?'
'The Whisperers are coming. Can you hear them?'
He chuckled to himself. 'An injection of their brand of despair would simply be overkill.' Then: 'Help me up.'
She obeyed instantly. She didn't think he had it in him to stand, but he did, and even more, he was able to walk with faltering steps.
'Give me your sword,' he said, 'foul thing though it is. Yes, I know I look like I couldn't lift a feather, but trust me, I have a reserve or two. You get inside that place… find the others and for God's sake, save the day! Gary Cooper-style!'
'They'll take you over…!'
'No, they won't. I'll be dead before I start blowing out that purple mist. But at least I might be able to hold them off long enough for you to get a head start.'
They made it to the doorway. Crowther steadied himself, then eased back so that the spear running through him supported him. He gave a slow exhalation of pain as it ground into his organs.
'Professor…'
'Go, you little idiot! I'm not doing this for the fun of it!' Briefly, he appeared to become delirious. 'There's some chap here with a pig's head. What's that all about? Blue sparks everywhere. What does that bastard want? Well, he won't get it!' He brought himself back and snapped at her, 'Run, damn you! Don't make me waste this last heroic gesture!'
Mahalia ducked forward and planted one last kiss on his cheek. It brought a fleeting smile to his face and then he turned towards the advancing horde. Mahalia ran into the shadows of the House of Pain, an intolerable weight on her heart. Matt and Jack sprinted through endless corridors calling Caitlin's name, but they weren't even answered by echoes; the air was too hot and dead, the place too labyrinthine.
'We're probably just going round in circles!' Jack said dismally.
'No we're not,' Matt replied. 'I've got an unerring sense of direction, one of those skills you build up when you do the kind of job I do. We're going right into the heart of it.'
'But what if that thing's already killed her?' 'If that was what it wanted to do, it would have done it the
