'You never learn,' Shadow John agreed.
Veitch hacked the head and an arm off the second warrior, but the third was causing him some difficulty. It moved rapidly, ducking beneath his attacks and jabbing with the spear. The razor-sharp obsidian blade sliced through Veitch's clothes and drew blood.
As Veitch lunged, the warrior whirled the spear's blunt end against Veitch's calf, upending him. The spear whirled again, ready to plunge into the prostrate Veitch's chest. Shavi grabbed the warrior's arm. As the warrior prepared to drive his wooden sword into Shavi's face, Veitch brought his own sword up into the warrior's gut. On his feet in an instant, Veitch rapidly made sure the warrior was dead.
'What are you doing, you mad bastard?' Veitch raged at Shavi. 'Don't ever get involved in a fight again. You'll get yourself killed.'
'Sorry. I thought I was saving your life,' Shavi replied wryly.
'Well, don't. It's my job to get hacked to pieces. It's your job to be all smart and mystical and bloody Confucius-like.' Taking a deep breath, Veitch cleaned his sword. 'But thanks anyway.'
Shavi grinned. 'Perhaps I could get a sword.'
'Don't push it.'
A loud clank echoed as the padlock dropped to the flags. Shadow John gave a flourish and swung the gate open.
'What's in there?' Veitch peered into the interior. It was even darker than the surrounding city.
'Why, the Labyrinth of the Court of Endless Horizons, of course,' Bearskin replied. 'It lies beneath the queen's palace. Every year the court would have a challenge with a prize of unimaginable value for any who could navigate the Labyrinth and defeat whatever foul thing the queen had let loose down there.'
'You've entered it?' Veitch enquired. 'You know your way through?'
'Entered the Labyrinth?' Bearskin exclaimed. 'I am no fool.'
'No one has ever survived the Labyrinth,' Shadow John explained.
'And now you're trying to get us to go in there.' Veitch glanced at Shavi. 'Is it just me or is there a pattern to our lives?'
'The scent of the Fragile Creature was rising up from the catacombs along our way. It could only be that somehow she has found her way into the Labyrinth through one of its many entrances,' Bearskin explained.
Shavi nodded towards the three corpses lying next to the gate. 'They were trying to get in there. The Enemy must be after the woman too.'
'Looks like Church was right — she is important,' Veitch noted. 'Not that I doubted him. All right, we haven't got a choice — in we go.'
Shadow John shifted uneasily. 'But no one has ever survived the Labyrinth.'
'The Enemy are right behind us,' Veitch said, ignoring him.
'It's what lies ahead that worries me,' Bearskin said, fingering his beard. 'Still, challenges make us stronger.' He clapped Shadow John on the shoulder and propelled him through the gate. 'Don't worry, brother — I will look out for you.'
'And we look out for ourselves,' Veitch said to Shavi before following them into the cold dark.
4
Time seemed to stand still in the constant darkness. Ruth and Tom crept along alleys and down side streets, feeling their way, constantly listening for the sound of any approach. Occasionally they would come across groups of the Aztec warriors searching the empty streets or raiding a building to slaughter the occupants, and then they would be forced to retrace their steps and find another route. The warriors were everywhere and progress was excruciatingly slow.
'They're just running us around like rats,' she snapped. 'We need to take control.'
'Perhaps you should conjure up some of that scary Craft,' Tom said sardonically. 'Draw a little attention to us.'
Ruth glared at him. 'I wasn't suggesting that. Besides, I choose the moments when I use my Craft. It's not like some sword you whip out whenever you need it. There are repercussions for every use.'
Tom's eyes glinted in the sapphire light from the tip of her spear. 'Always a price to pay.'
Ruth hoped he didn't notice the shadow cross her face. If she allowed herself a moment's introspection, she realised she was afraid: of what the Craft would do if it was unleashed; of herself, of what she was becoming. Once before, the power had consumed her and she had almost destroyed everyone she loved. She could not let that happen again.
'I smell smoke,' Tom said, distracted. 'A fire in this situation could be devastating.'
'God, I hope the others are okay,' Ruth said. 'I hope Church was smart enough to stay put.'
'He wasn't, and it saved his life.'
Ruth and Tom jumped as Laura emerged from the dark at the end of the alley.
'How did you find us?' Ruth asked incredulously.
'Blind luck.' Laura glanced at Tom. 'All of it bad.'
Tom snorted.
'What are you saying about Church?' Ruth pressed.
'I just met him back there. The idiot couldn't sit tight. Massive city, total darkness, everybody split up — the first thing you do is wander around, calling out names, right? Still,' she added acidly, 'love makes you do stupid things.'
'Come on, what are you waiting for?' Ruth was embarrassed by the eagerness in her voice.
'Okay, Jesus, keep your pants on till we get there.' Laura strode back down the alley, with Ruth and Tom stumbling behind.
'Is he all right?' Ruth asked.
'Yeah, got out just before that cafe building burned down. I bumped into him while I was trying to stay one step ahead of those Aztec freaks. Persuaded him to sit still for a while.'
'Why did he let you go off wandering?' Tom asked suspiciously.
'Because, grandpa, my plant eyes work better than human eyes. So shut it.'
Ruth noted a harsher edge in Laura's mockery; the stress was telling, she thought, though Laura would never admit it.
Laura led them down a side alley to a small courtyard surrounded by three buildings. As they moved cautiously around the edge, they came across Church squatting on his haunches against one wall; he was holding something in his right hand that Ruth couldn't make out.
'Thank God,' she said. 'I was starting to get worried.'
Church stood up to accept Ruth's hug, but as she fell into his arms, Tom called out, 'Wait! There's something wrong!'
Church spun Ruth and clamped an arm around her throat; one flex of his muscles and he would crush the life from her. As she struggled to free herself, Church craned his head around to peer into her startled eyes and she could see then that though he looked like Church down to the smallest detail, it was not him; his eyes were filled with cruelty, and his breath against her cheek smelled of raw meat. She was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of dread so strong it almost made her faint.
'What's going on?' Laura exclaimed.
Tom held her back. 'Show yourself!' he urged.
The one who was Not-Church held out his right hand, and Ruth could now see that he clutched a smoking mirror. A glimmer of half-recognition crossed Tom's face.
As he turned the mirror, the hand and arm holding it became that of a jungle cat, black spots against white and orange fur: a jaguar, Ruth thought. And then it changed again, into a human hand, but with grey skin stretched tightly across bone. Afraid to look at the face but unable to prevent herself, Ruth glanced back and was convulsed with fear. It was like looking into the face of a corpse, the skin hanging in tatters from decomposing flesh, unmistakable feline qualities in the shape of the eyes and the tufts of fur clinging on to the skull-like pate. Black
