The girl kept glancing at the dizzying drop, her face as white as the snow. Laura's heart went out to her. 'Okay,' she said hesitantly. 'I'll try to make the vine stronger. Just… just be quick.'
But before she could use the third seed, a cry rang out. The Iron Slaughterman had struck Ruth a glancing blow, propelling her into the mountainside where she slumped, unconscious. Her injury had distracted both Church and Veitch. Laura called out as the great sword hurtled towards Veitch and while her warning came in time for him to take one brief step back, the blade still ripped across his chest, releasing a spurt of blood. Veitch staggered backwards into the snow.
'Miller, you're going to have to heal him,' Laura shouted.
The Iron Slaughterman drove Church back against the wall where Veitch lay. When the giant sword pounded into the rock near where his head had been, the resultant explosion of shards of stone laid him flat.
Despite the threat, Miller scrambled towards Church and Veitch, but the Iron Slaughterman rounded on him instantly.
'This is it,' Laura gasped.
So fast was the attack on the Iron Slaughterman that Laura barely saw it. A second or two had passed before she realised he was battling furiously with a pair of Fomorii, their oily black shapes snapping and changing, claws and spikes and horns tearing through the Iron Slaughterman's defences before they clung onto him, their snapping jaws darting. His arm fell away, and in his frenzy to throw off the Fomorii, he careered to the edge, and over, taking both beasts with him.
As Miller ran to help Veitch, Laura scrambled to the edge, but the Iron Slaughterman had already been lost in the swirling blizzard.
'I hope you were expecting me.'
Laura whirled at the familiar voice. Hunter sauntered up jauntily, Jack creeping out from the top of the stairs behind him. For once, Laura gave in to honest emotion and threw her arms around Hunter, kissing him passionately on the edge of the precipice, oblivious to the drop, the cold, the wind.
'I take it from that greeting that you weren't expecting me,' Hunter said with a grin. Behind him, a soft blue glow rose up as Miller healed Veitch, who was unconscious from the shock of his wound and the blood loss.
'You're always full of surprises,' she said.
'Here's another one: I've got my own giant. He's roaming around in the hall down there. Turns out he can control those shape-shifting things.' His grin was swaggering, but his eyes told of a deeper emotion that made her ache. 'So, did you miss me?' he asked.
'I'm sorry,' she said.
He pulled back, puzzled. 'For what?'
Laura placed her hands firmly on his chest and pushed. For only the briefest moment she had to bear the searing look of betrayal in his face before Hunter went over the edge and was lost to the snowstorm.
'Laura!' His face torn with horror, Miller raced towards her. 'What have you done?'
With a flourish, Laura flicked one of the seeds into the air. Green shoots burst from it, rippling and extending rapidly until they lashed around Miller, holding him fast. Laura grabbed the other end of the vine and yanked him towards her. Aghast, he tried to force out a question that would make sense of her devastating actions, but she elbowed him sharply in the face, and as he reeled in a daze, she propelled him over the edge after Hunter.
Jack and Virginia were rooted and though they struggled briefly, she was too strong and too determined.
Church and Ruth came round as Laura returned from the edge of the terrace. Dazed, they struggled to their feet, not yet noticing who was missing. Laura helped Veitch up, his wound already healed, thanks to Miller. Although still weak, the Pendragon Spirit would soon have him back to full strength.
'Church, it's terrible,' Laura said when she saw the questions start to surface in his face. 'That bastard with the sword…' She choked back a sob. 'He killed Hunter. And… and he took Miller, Jack and Virginia over the edge with him.' Tears streamed down her face.
The others stared in abject shock until Ruth stepped forwards to comfort Laura with a hug.
'Hunter? Shit.' Veitch looked to Church, who already understood the implications.
'Not just Hunter. We've lost the Two Keys, and our way into the Enemy Fortress,' Church said. 'It's all over.'
7
In the timeless Grim Lands, only seconds had passed. Mallory and Caitlin watched as the flamboyant Callow did a little jig on top of the tomb.
'You've got a lot of energy for a dead man,' Mallory said.
'Ah, but then I am not like others you will find in this dismal place. When I walked the world, I was filled with more life than any of the grey, workaday drudges I encountered on their morose treks into the coffin they called the office. I drank deeply of the heady cup of life! I imbibed all there was to offer. And more!'
Mallory and Caitlin exchanged a glance, but if Callow noticed, he didn't appear to care.
'And then it was all so cruelly snatched away!' Callow added.
'I'm betting one or two others here would say the same thing,' Mallory said.
'No! I was not meant to die. It was an error of cosmic proportions. And if proof you need, it is the simple fact that I am still here.'
Caitlin eyed him curiously. 'What do you mean?'
'I am not allowed to continue. The Grey Lands is simply a waiting room. The vast majority of shades you find here are in the process of moving on. To where, I do not know. Heaven? Hell? Why this is hell, nor am I out of it. Perhaps back into the innocent foetus, with all the possibilities once again lying ahead, to do right, or wrong, learn, or not, and find their way… where? Back here!'
Mallory began to grow weary of Callow's chatter and prepared to head off. Callow instantly read the signs and leaped in front of him.
'Some of the shades get trapped here, true, for reasons I have not yet discerned. But you can tell their type instantly. Consumed by bitterness, infected with despair, none of them exhibit the joy you see here in my humble form. No, I am a true anomaly — neither dead nor alive. Caught in a web not of my own making, and no one prepared to throw up their arms and admit to their mistake.'
'We can't waste time here,' Caitlin said with irritation.
'Take me with you!' Callow pleaded, grabbing hold of Mallory's jacket.
Prising him off, Mallory said, 'Nice story, but I'm pretty sure you're meant to be here, and I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of whoever sets the rules in this place.'
'Please!' Callow started to cry. 'You don't know what it's like here!'
'Mallory,' Caitlin pressed. When she held up the Wayfinder to examine the direction of the blue flame, Callow stopped crying instantly and his eyes narrowed.
Mallory noticed the sudden change in his demeanour and asked, 'What's wrong?'
'That lantern. I have seen it before. In the possession of my very good friends.' Callow slyly watched Mallory's interest grow. 'The remarkable, the astonishing Jack Churchill. And Ruth Gallagher. And the lovely Laura. Shavi. And the other one.'
'You know Church and the others?' Caitlin asked.
'We were travelling partners for a time, during that age of upheaval, that Age of Misrule. Oh, how they mourned my passing! Oh, how they would celebrate joyously if I returned to the land of the quick!'
The resonant creak of the cemetery gate echoed through the mist. Callow started, and ran to the edge of a mausoleum to peer uneasily into the grey, where he plucked at the fraying sleeve of his jacket. Mallory and Caitlin left him there and tried to pick a path through the cluttered mass of monuments to the dead, but within a moment he had joined them again.
'Let me guide you,' he said. 'You'll never find your way through this sprawling city of the departed without my help. There are many hidden dangers, and sometimes a slight detour could save you a limb or a life. You really would not want to be permanent residents here.'
