'There's always an enterprising Young Turk around the corner,' Daniels said. 'What's the matter, Gardener? Weren't you a capitalist in the old life?'
'I was a binman, you daft bugger. It was my job to clean up for the capitalists. I saw all the filth you left behind.'
'Oh, you Communist,' Daniels mocked.
'The Bible says enough about those who worship Mammon,' Gardener countered. 'You don't have to be a Communist to hate greedy bastards.'
They passed St Thomas's Church, the Guildhall and the market, all still and dark, and made their way up Castle Street towards the ring road. The frost made the streets glitter, as unreal as a movie set. Without the streetlights, and the parked cars, and the stale exhaust fumes drifting in the air, everything seemed fake.
Beyond the city limits, they rode slowly in tight formation, all eyes watching the surrounding countryside, which was peppered here and there with the silent grassy mounds that marked the spiritual life of the ancients. The ordered fields had started to break down, becoming overgrown, with self-set trees sprouting here and there. The hedges were wild, the birds and animals abundant in the pesticide-free environment. Yet they all sensed there was more going on than they could see. Miller told them of his trials during his journey to the cathedral, of the monkey- creatures and the other things he had glimpsed at a distance. They listened attentively, without comment.
'What have you heard is out here?' Miller asked in the lull that followed his tale.
'The Wild Hunt rides at night, collecting souls.' Gardener spoke with utmost confidence. 'A black dog that's more than a dog.'
'Ghosts.' Daniels picked up his line. 'Spirits… water spirits… tree spirits.' He appeared a little embarrassed at saying these things, yet plainly believed in them.
'If this is the End Times, why has it been so quiet since the attack?' Miller said. 'Maybe that was just a one- off. Maybe everyone's wrong… getting worked up for no reason.' The note of hope in his voice was almost childlike.
'It was a calling card,' Gardener said adamantiy, 'just to let us know what's coming up. This is the lull before the storm. Things will be going to hell in a handcart soon enough.'
'Here we are!' Hipgrave's voice caught them unawares. He'd reined in his horse to point to grey shapes on a rise, almost lost against the background clouds and the rain.
'Stonehenge,' Miller said redundantly.
Hipgrave trotted back to them. 'We treat this area with extreme caution. No one goes into the circle — I have strict instructions from Blaine.'
'I thought our instructions were to bring back the vicar,' Mallory said. 'You're saying you've got a whole load of other secret instructions?'
'They're not secret, they're operational.' Hipgrave nudged his horse towards the stone circle. 'You don't need to know.'
They progressed cautiously, all of them feeling a tingle of excitement when the menhirs came fully into view.
'There's real power here,' Daniels said. 'Can you feel it?'
'What are you thinking, Mallory?' Miller asked, when he saw the faraway look on his friend's face.
Mallory shifted as if he'd been caught out. 'I was thinking that it's returning to the days when Constable and Turner loved the place for its loneliness, and the special quality of the light and the atmosphere.'
'I didn't know you were artistic,' Miller said, surprised.
'That's because you don't know anything.' Mallory spurred his horse away. He'd been struck by a strange notion: one of the outstanding mysteries of Stonehenge was why the builders had brought a special kind of bluestone all the way from mountains in south-west Wales. Three thousand years ago, it was a tremendous, seemingly unnecessary exercise, especially when there were more suitable stones close to hand. But after what Sophie had told him of the Blue Fire, he wondered if the bluestones had some special generating quality for the earth energy. He'd been quite dismissive during the conversation in the travellers' camp, but the concept of the invigorating lifeblood energy appealed to him.
They moved on to the English Heritage visitor centre, which was completely burned out. Scorch marks were evident all around the area, even in the tunnel that ran under the road. Hipgrave made them skirt the circle widely as if it were a sleeping beast, yet Mallory regularly caught him apprehensively scanning the clouds.
'Split up. Look around the site as fast as you can for any sign. We need to be out of here quick,' he said.
They segmented the grassy field around the henge and each concentrated on one sector. After fifteen minutes of futile searching, Mallory's attention was caught by lightning on the horizon. A storm was approaching. Over in the next sector, Hipgrave stiffened and fixed his attention where the lightning had struck.
Maybe we can find a tree for him to shelter under, Mallory thought.
Three minutes later, the lightning struck again, though this time Mallory was aware it wasn't the brilliant white of any lightning he'd seen before; there was a ruddiness to it, perhaps even a hint of gold.
Mallory watched it curiously, waiting for the repeat, until Hipgrave thundered up beside him. The leader's face was taut. 'We need to get out of here. Now.'
'What's wrong?'
'What's wrong is we're trespassing!' Hipgrave spurred his horse to warn the others.
Mallory had no idea what he meant, but followed him nonetheless. Hipgrave had just spoken to Gardener when Miller called out on the north-western side of the henge.
'Look here,' he said when they galloped over. He pointed to a discarded bag and very obvious tracks leading away into the heart of the Plain. The bag was leather, embossed with the gold initials E. G.
'Eric Gregory,' Miller said. 'That's the name Blaine told us.'
It was exactly what they'd hoped to find, yet Hipgrave barely gave Miller's discovery any attention. His neck craned in the direction of the lightning.
'Come on!' he said. 'Move!'
Mallory followed his gaze to see a black shape just breaking the cloud cover; at that distance it resembled a fly.
Miller watched it dumbfounded until Hipgrave cuffed him on the side of his head. 'Come on!' He set off in the direction of the tracks, quickly spurring his horse into a gallop, not waiting for anyone.
Miller stared at the bag in his hands, not really comprehending what was happening, until Gardener grabbed his collar and hauled him into his saddle.
'Look!' Daniels said in awe.
Another burst of energy. Definitely not lightning, Mallory thought again. He knew exactly what they were seeing, recalling the travellers' explanation as to why Melanie had been visiting Stonehenge when she was injured. The column of flame hit the ground and erupted, just as he had seen it do that first time in Salisbury. The Fabulous Beast approached on slow, heavy wing-strokes, its serpentine neck rising and falling with each beat.
For a brief moment, they were all transfixed. The creature carried mystery and wonder on its back; the very sight of it reached deep into the unconscious depths of their minds.
Another yell from Hipgrave finally stirred them and they spurred their horses into life, heading down the slope from Stonehenge into the heart of Salisbury Plain. Mallory estimated that the Beast was twenty miles away at least, but drawing closer rapidly. Occasionally, he could hear the sound of its wings, the jet-engine roar of its flame bursts, each explosion followed by a shower of soil and rock and wood. Now they all knew why the Stonehenge visitor centre was burned out, and, as their wonder faded, what would happen to them if that searing breath came too close.
Lying low over their mounts' necks, they pushed on, the wind driving the rain into their faces until their skin stung and they could barely see.
The Plain passed by in a blur of green and grey. Eventually, they caught up with Hipgrave who herded them amongst old tank tracks into the once off-limits Ministry of Defence land. They finally came to rest under thick tree cover in a lower-lying area.
Mallory jumped down from his mount and ran to the tree line. In the distance, the Fabulous Beast was circling. 'I think it's lost track of us,' he said.
'Did it really see us? At that distance?' Miller said. 'I mean, why was it after us?'
'They're stupid animals,' Hipgrave said, dismounting. 'They'll hunt anything.'
