When he awoke, the Hipgrave-thing was rising above him like a tidal wave of oil. A bone-numbing cold radiated out over him.
Mallory turned his head and yelled to Sophie, who was watching, horrified. 'Call him!'
She realised instantly what he meant, though the panic that crossed her face showed that she knew it was already too late. She bowed her head, began to mutter.
Mallory fumbled for the sword and held it ready to ram into the thing when it came down, hoping he could do at least some damage, to save Sophie with his dying stroke.
The crash of the gates falling signified that Sophie didn't have to call out; the powers had been watching. The Hipgrave-thing was wavering, distracted, as if it sensed something Mallory couldn't. Through the broken gates came a tremendous flood of bodies: the pale-skinned, black-eyed army of little people, moving hastily as if fearful of the coming light, and like a stallion amongst them was Old Shuck with its gleaming red eyes.
The Hipgrave-thing pulled away from Mallory, who was now the lesser threat. Its attention was fixed on Old Shuck, which had broken away from the swarming little people and was moving ominously towards Mallory.
Everything was like a dream, hazy, fractured, sometimes moving too fast, sometimes in slow motion. The little people appeared to be scattering something across the cathedral compound. Soon after, there was a rumbling in the ground as of some great beast stirring. Green shoots burst through the snow, sprouted, prospered, became creeping strands of ivy, saplings, bushes, flowers. The ivy soared up the walls of the cathedral, beginning to smother the lower storeys of the other buildings.
The Hipgrave-thing was hypnotised by the activity. Mallory saw his moment. Despite the pain flooding his side, he pulled himself to his feet and moved behind the creature. With the last of his energy, he heaved the sword over his head and thrust it so hard into the thing's back it burst out through its chest.
It trembled for a moment, the sensations taking their time to reach whatever passed for a mind within it. Then it crashed to the ground like a falling tree. It was clear that even then Mallory had not delivered a killing stroke, for it writhed and thrashed, screeching insanely.
Mallory scrambled backwards, found Sophie, her arms going around him easily. He dropped down into her lap, watching what would happen next, too weak to play any part.
Old Shuck advanced until it was close to the Hipgrave-thing. It bent forwards, peering with those flaming eyes as though it could see into the creature's head. Mallory had a sense that on some level communication was taking place. Whatever had happened, the Hipgrave-thing slowed its wild movements as though sedated.
The little people swarmed around, lashing ropes with the thickness and strength of wire across the beast. Within minutes, it was completely caught. The strain of the ropes was taken by a hundred small hands, and with great effort, the Hipgrave-thing was hauled gradually towards the gates, Old Shuck keeping pace, never taking its red eyes away. Left behind in the snow was a desiccated husk that had once been Hipgrave; and it was missing one hand.
When the cathedral compound was finally deserted, Mallory and Sophie felt as if they had awoken from a strange dream. She looked into his face, her smile wiping away the strain and worry. 'You did it,' she said, brushing the hair from his forehead. 'Not bad for a man with a penis substitute.'
He tried to lever himself up, but the flaring pain in his side sent him crashing back down. 'Broken rib,' he said weakly.
'Don't worry — we can sort that out. A few herbs, something really foul and disgusting to drink… back on your feet in no time.'
He rolled his head to see Miller, who lay like death next to them. 'How is he?' he asked. The guilt rose in him again; he knew he would never be able to forgive himself for this.
Sophie felt the pulse in Miller's neck. 'Nearly gone, I think,' she said sadly. 'I liked him. He was decent.'
They were disturbed by a strange, melodic fluting. It drifted through the thick vegetation that now covered the compound, haunting and oddly unearthly. They eventually located the source: sitting amongst a copse of young trees, almost lost against the pattern of leaves and branches, was the Green Man, trilling gently on a set of pan- pipes.
Mallory and Sophie listened to his music for five minutes, strangely comforted, but then he stopped and said, 'You have redeemed your people.'
'They're not my people,' Mallory said.
'No. But you have redeemed them.' The Green Man rose and walked towards them, shoots wriggling through the snow wherever his feet fell. 'This was my place, long before the Church came,' he said. 7 can share it, for its power should be available to all.' The implication in his words was clear.
'You've won,' Mallory said.
'There is no victory here, only grief, and pain, and destruction.' His voice sounded like the wind through the trees, and despite the cold of the morning, Mallory and Sophie felt as though they were basking in the warmth of a summer's day. 'Now is the time for new shoots,' he continued, 'for hope and growth, for all living things to thrive as they are infused with the mysteries of Existence.'
'The creature… the creature that was Hipgrave…'Mallory couldn't find the voice to continue; the pain had put him on the edge of blacking out.
'There are things beyond this place that occasionally pay an interest in your world. It is best not to discuss them.' He stared towards the dawn, his eyes reflecting the morning light. 'But something has stirred beyond the lip of the universe and it has noticed you… something so terrible that even the Golden Ones fear it.' He looked to Mallory and Sophie sombrely. 'And it is coming this way.'
Sophie shivered. 'That thing-'
'It is an outrider, a scout, the merest thing compared to what it serves… lying here since this place was newly formed. In recent times, it was awakened.' A robin alighted on his shoulder; he watched it askance with a touching warmth. 'It was mindless, easily manipulated. It could not be allowed to abide, and so-'
'You used it,' Sophie said, 'controlled it. And now-'
'Now it will be destroyed. But that is not the end of it.' He waved his hand as if to wipe away all talk of dark things. 'The darkest time of year has passed. Now we look to the light.' He stooped down and plucked the box from where Mallory had dropped it. He smiled as the blue light flooded out and the tiny Fabulous Beast wriggled into the palm of his hand. 'Is it not wonderful?' he said. 'Is this not something that should be raised up to bring warmth into all hearts?'
'It's dying,' Mallory managed.
The Green Man squatted down next to them. 'It is beyond that. It is life. It is a part of Existence itself.' He looked from Mallory to Sophie and in his vegetative face they saw something powerful and moving. 'Hope, Brother and Sister of Dragons. Hope and life.'
He pressed his face close to the Fabulous Beast, then leaned over and threw the blankets off Miller before carefully laying the creature on the still form's belly. Mallory and Sophie watched in puzzlement. The brilliant blue glow began to pulse, gradually at first but then with increasing speed, growing brighter all the time until they had to shield their eyes. When it reached a peak, the tiny black shape at the heart of the glare appeared to be melting. A few seconds later, Mallory realised that this was not the case: it looked as if it was sinking into Miller's belly. When the last of the dark smudge disappeared, the light winked out and all was as it had been. There was no sign of the Fabulous Beast.
The Green Man had retreated to the nearest copse, and when he spoke his voice was rich and florid; he was smiling warmly. 'We shall meet again when there are five of you. And then, once again, the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons shall stand shoulder to shoulder with the Golden Ones in the name of Existence.' And then he was gone, swallowed up by the vegetation as if he had simply allowed his essence to dissipate amongst it.
Mallory and Sophie were transfixed until the sound of rustling disturbed them. Miller was sitting up, puzzling as to why he had been lying in the snow. His cheeks were full, his skin pink with the flush of contentment.
He looked from one to the other, then said, even more puzzled, 'Why are you crying?'
Epilogue
