Tiny sparks of light darted overhead, accompanied by a flutter of wings which reminded Church of the sound of bats on a summer evening. But as he peered up into the clear night sky he felt a tingle of wonder. Tiny, full- formed figures, neither men nor women but a little of both, flashed around high above on wings that seemed too flimsy to carry even their slight weight; the light was coming from their skin, which had the faint glow of phosphorus.
'What are they?' Veitch asked curiously.
'I would say the analogue of nature spirits. Whatever made our ancestors think the trees and rivers were alive.'
'No trouble, then?' Veitch's hand was inside his jacket where he kept his gun. Church wanted to tell him it would be worthless in what lay ahead, but he supposed if it gave Veitch comfort then it had some use. The hand didn't come out and Church could tell Veitch was weighing up whether he could get away with taking a few potshots.
'They look harmless,' Church warned. 'Leave them be. They might even be helpful to us at some time.'
'I don't want help from any of them,' Veitch said harshly. 'I want things back the way they were.'
'It's not all bad,' Church replied. 'We've got the magic back. We were missing that in all our lives.'
Veitch didn't seem convinced. 'Why are they flying around like that? Most of these things seem to stay out of the way when people are around.'
Now that he mentioned it, Church did think it was curious. He examined the fleeting trails of the creatures once again, and when one swooped low enough so he could see its face, the answer was unmistakable. 'They're frightened,' he said. 'Something has disturbed them.'
Veitch traced their path back across the sky. 'They came from over there,' he said, pointing to Castle Hill, where Shavi, Laura and Ruth had lazed earlier.
'We could go back,' Church mused. He was torn between the knowledge of what terrible things now lurked out in the night and the desire to know what might present a problem to them in the future.
Veitch was already striding down St. Julian's Street. 'We'll be fine if we keep on our toes. We've got to check this out.'
The quay was awash with the reflected sodium light from the town dappling the gently lapping waves. Tranquillity lay across the area, in direct opposition to the hubbub of the day. The boat trip booth was shut, as was the ice cream shop and surf store on the ramp down to the beach. A few lights glimmered in the holiday apartments overlooking the harbour, but as they passed the old bath house and joined the path which curved around the headland, all signs of life disappeared. Away to their left, the sea rolled in calmly, the breakers crashing on the rocks under the lifeboat station. On their right the bank rose up, too steep to climb, to the top of Castle Hill.
Church and Veitch advanced along the path cautiously. Although it was a clear night, it was dark away from the town's lights and the susurration of the sea drowned out any nearby sounds.
'What do you reckon?' Veitch asked at a point where the path wound round so it was impossible to see far ahead or back.
'Doesn't seem-' The words were barely out of Church's lips when the night was disturbed by a throaty bass rumble, deep and powerful, rolling out from somewhere close by.
'What was that?' Veitch hissed.
Church felt the now-familiar shiver of fear ripple down his back. He glanced down the path behind them, then ahead, and finally up the steep bank. Another sound echoed out. 'Up there,' he whispered.
They stood stock-still, trying to peer through the gorse and willowherb, their breath burning in their throats. Finally they caught a glimpse of a black bulk moving against the sky on the ridge above them. Veitch went to speak, but Church silenced him with a wave of his hand. The silhouette moved slowly, dangerously, and then it turned its head and Church caught the terrible glitter of red eyes, burning like embers.
'Black Shuck,' he muttered.
He thought his words had been barely more than an exhalation, but the creature suddenly froze. Another throbbing growl rolled out menacingly. Slowly, the eyes moved, searching.
The dog disappeared from view and a second later they heard crashing through the undergrowth as it thundered down the bank to the path.
'Is it in front or behind?' Veitch asked, glancing around anxiously. Church shook his head. They vacillated, desperately hoping for some sign, but they knew once they had one it would be too late.
Finally Church grabbed Veitch and forced him onwards around the corner. They breathed easily when they saw the dog wasn't there, but its growls were still reverberating loudly and seemed to be drawing closer. Church nodded to a point where the bank wasn't so steep. 'If it's down here, we should be up there.'
'Yeah, but we have to come down sooner or later.'
They launched themselves at the bank and scrambled up, digging their nails in the turf and weeds to haul themselves along. At the clipped lawn on the summit, they rolled on to their stomachs and peered back down. Church caught a glimpse of the dog prowling menacingly back and forth along the path.
'It knows we're here,' Veitch noted in a hoarse whisper. 'It can smell us.'
'Something more than that, I think.'
'Okay, but from what you've told me, if the dog's here, the Hunt can't be far behind, right?'
That was the one thing Church had been trying not to consider. 'We have to get back to the others,' he said.
Shavi, Ruth and Laura sat in Tom's top floor room looking out across the rooftops. Tom lay on the bed, his face pale and drawn.
'Where've they got to?' Ruth paced around anxiously. 'You're sure they're going to be all right?'
'I told you. I've done all I can. A simple direction of the energies, a masking.' The snap of anger in Tom's voice was born of exhaustion. 'If they're not in plain sight, they should be fine.'
'What if they're pissed and lying in a gutter?' Laura asked. 'You know how boys like to play once they get together.'
'You'd think they'd have thought to get back here by nightfall,' Ruth moaned.
'They never call.' Laura's singsong voice dripped with mockery. 'Listen to you. You sound like their mother.'
'Why don't you-'
'Listen.' Concern crossed Shavi's face. From the street without came the gentle clip-clop of horses' hooves, an everyday sound, but it made their blood run cold.
'Can you see?' Ruth knew she was whispering unnecessarily, but she couldn't bring herself to raise her voice.
Shavi pressed his face up close to the glass and attempted to look down. He shook his head. 'Only if I open the window.'
'Don't do that!' Laura snapped.
'I was not about to.'
They listened as the sound of the hooves slowly moved away and only when the sound had finally disappeared did they speak again.
'Maybe it wasn't them,' Ruth said hopefully. 'Earlier I saw a guy who takes tourists on tours of the front in a horse-drawn carriage.'
'It was the Hunt.' Tom's voice had an edge of fatalism.
'How fast does it move?' Veitch panted. They slipped and slid down the grassy bank on the other side of the hill until they reached the museum.
'Faster than you could ever run, even on a good day.' Church dropped on to a path and peered over the old castle walls. If the tide had been out, they could have taken a short cut across the beach and up the vertiginous seafront steps to the street where the B amp;B lay, but the waters crashed against the cliffs on which the town perched.
'Hey, I'm fit. You're the one who spends his time sitting on his arse writing about old bones.'
They hurried under the crumbling stone arches of the castle's defences and quickly arrived back at the quay. Disturbingly, the dog's growls didn't diminish. Church glanced back and thought he could see the eyes burning in the distance.
'It's got our scent,' he said. 'Or whatever. We might lose it up in the town where there are too many other
