With a fizz, the flame flickered larger and licked out of the lantern, but there was none of the surging whoosh and crackle of flames that Mallory had experienced before; and Hal was no longer the searing figure of raging fire. He resembled a ghost, so intangible that his form flickered and guttered to reveal the grey dust behind. The only sign of the Blue Fire was a thin halo limning him.
'You survived Callow's attack,' Mallory said.
'Just. It took nearly all my reserves. I'm barely hanging on now.' He gave a wan smile. 'Not much use to you any more, if I ever was.'
'What happens when the reserves go?' Caitlin asked.
He raised his hand and waved almost-fingers gently towards the Abyss. 'Gone, gone, gone.' He saw her face fall, and added hastily, 'Don't worry, I'm ready for it. The time I've spent in the Blue Fire — which to me feels like all-time — has been…' He laughed quietly. 'There's no point me trying to explain it. Let's just say, I've seen all there is to see, experienced all that's on offer and know the answers to every question I ever considered. Even the big ones.'
'A few tips wouldn't go amiss,' Mallory said.
'It'd be like cheating in an exam — you'd get banned. All right if you work out the answers for yourself, but no insider dealing.' Hal's face grew serious, and a little sad. 'Don't worry, Mallory. Really. Don't worry.'
'Can you help us now?' Caitlin asked. 'We can't see what we're supposed to do next.'
'Yeah, the Wayfinder flame's a bit of a blunt tool,' he replied. 'I can't get it to point down.'
'That's it? We climb down?'
'Not all the way. You'll see what I mean.' A crackle like static disrupted Hal's indistinct form. 'Not much time left for me.' The words broke up.
'Then get back in the lantern,' Mallory said. 'We're going to return you to the world.'
With a nod of thanks and a smile, Hal faded away. Mallory fastened the Wayfinder to his belt before inspecting the drop, and after a few moments' preparation he eased himself over the edge, feeling for hand- and footholds. Under the deft, fearless control of the Morrigan, Caitlin came next, followed by Etain and the others.
Progress was slow, and soon Mallory's joints were aching from the strain of clinging on to the rock face, while reaching out all around to find nooks that would support his weight. From time to time, they had to go back up to take a different route when the footholds disappeared.
'One good thing about this fog, you can't see the bottom,' he gasped. 'Saves me blacking out from the vertigo.'
After each few feet, Mallory paused and checked the Wayfinder. When they had descended for about half a mile, he realised he had passed the point of no return for his exhausted limbs, but just as he began to worry, the direction of the flame moved from upright to the left. Relieved, Mallory edged horizontally across the cliff face.
'Mallory!' The timbre of Caitlin's voice had changed to the rasp of her crone-like Brigid persona. 'Danger approaches!'
From deep in the fog, a high-pitched screech emanated. 'Etain!' he called out. 'What threats have got-'
The words caught in his throat as something swooped out from the fog, passing so close that it ruffled his hair before disappearing in a flash. A bird? he guessed, but he had an after-image of something bone-white and near-skeletal, as big as an eagle.
Bracing himself, he clung on with one hand and drew Llyrwyn just in time as the thing burst from the fog again. Missing both eyes, what little skin it had was pale and desiccated, wrapped tightly across bones that were visible all over; it looked as if the carcass had been left out in the sun for weeks. With the wild flapping of enormous wings, it attacked him with beak and talons, lunging and snapping, again and again. Mallory lashed out with his sword, but each swing threatened to pitch him off the cliff-face.
Caitlin arrived behind him just as two more of the bird-creatures emerged from the fog. Balancing so precariously on her toes that Mallory was sure she would fall, Caitlin lashed out with her axe and chopped one of the attackers neatly in two. As it plunged down into the fog, they heard the screech of more arriving.
Bringing his sword up sharply, Mallory despatched one bird, but the other had dug its talons into his shoulders and was driving its beak into his head as it attempted to tear out his eyes.
Struggling to defend himself from the bird's frenzy, his fingers detached from the cliff-face and he began to lurch out over the gulf. As his stomach flipped, Caitlin's hand snapped tightly around his wrist and held him fast.
Blood streamed down Mallory's face from the bird's furious assault. Then, as he fought and failed to get a purchase on it, the creature was torn away. Above his head, Etain clung to the cliff-face like a spider. Gripping the thrashing bird in her left hand, she snapped her teeth onto its scrawny neck and tore its head off. Both parts flew down past Mallory, but by then he was wiping the blood from his eyes and moving as fast as he could along the cliff before any more of the creatures attacked.
Their shrieks made his skin crawl, and he could hear them swooping just beyond the limit of his vision, circling as they looked for the right moment to strike.
Before they made their next move, he located a narrow fissure in the rock from which a cold wind blew. He dragged himself in quickly, with Caitlin and the others pressing close behind. The fissure opened out into a dark tunnel just big enough for them to walk upright.
Caitlin resisted Mallory's attempts to keep her away and tended to his wounds. 'Stop being such a man,' she said. 'At least you didn't say, 'It's just a scratch.' ' Her voice had all the warmth of the real Caitlin, free of the Morrigan's hardness. In the middle of that cold, miserable place, it touched him deeply, and he gave her arm a quick squeeze. She smiled back.
'After what Callow did to you, I have the feeling they're just trying to whittle us down, a bit at a time.'
Once the wounds had started to dry, they set off along the tunnel. After several yards, they became aware of a subtle change. The Grim Lands had a claustrophobic feel, as if the very environment was pressing in on all sides, but that had lifted. Mallory found he was breathing easier, and the air had richer odours — vegetation, he guessed — and was damper than the dry atmosphere they had been breathing for so long.
'This is weird,' Caitlin whispered. 'Etain, have you any idea where we're going?'
When there was no response, Caitlin looked back to see that the Brothers and Sisters of Spiders had reverted to the same mechanical movements they had exhibited in the Far Lands. Their staring eyes swivelled to lock on to Caitlin, but they registered no sign of any intelligence.
'Uh, Mallory-' she began.
'Hush,' he hissed. 'The tunnel's coming to an end.'
They emerged near the foot of a hill. It was dark, and there was a forest all around, but ahead of them Chinese lanterns glowed in the trees surrounded by fluttering moths. An autumnal chill hung in the air, and the aroma of ripe fruit, damp leaves and fern.
'I don't think we're in the Grim Lands any more,' Mallory said quietly.
Cautiously, weapons drawn, they made their way down the remainder of the hillside. The Brothers and Sisters of Spiders walked steadily behind.
The lanterns cast a peaceful ambience over the forest setting. Not far away, high in the branches, an owl hooted and was answered immediately by another.
'How can we be in the Land of the Dead, and somewhere else at the same time?' Caitlin asked.
'Some kind of pocket?' Mallory suggested. 'If the Market was tucked away here to stop anyone stumbling across the Extinction Shears, the people would need some kind of atmosphere in which they could thrive.'
'Because only the dead can exist in the Grim Lands.'
'Exactly.'
'Who has the power to do that, Mallory?'
He had no answer for her. They found themselves on a track that wound into the forest where more of the lanterns clustered. In the soft, golden glow, they could just make out the shapes of the first market stalls, and as they neared they could see that it spread out far into the trees ahead.
'Why is it so quiet?' Caitlin whispered.
'Deserted?' Mallory suggested, but as they reached the first stall he could see he was wrong. Skulls, crystals, candles, mirrors and other magickal items were loaded onto the table under a dark-green awning. Behind it stood the owner, a man in a broad-brimmed black hat and dark coat. He wasn't moving. Pearly, glistening trails of spider webs covered him, reaching from the brim of his hat down to the table.
