He debated going back, but he couldn't be sure that whatever was there wasn't behind him. Oddly, his growing apprehension steeled his resolve.
At the end of the corridor, a short flight of worn steps led up to a deserted chapel. They were the night stairs, a regular fixture in monasteries allowing the monks to make their way speedily from the dormitories to the services so no time was lost for devotion.
He had his foot on the bottom step when a shape loomed up at the top. At first he thought it might be Daniels until he recalled the knight hadn't been wearing his cloak. The figure wore the black habit of a monk, the cowl pulled low over a shadowy space that hid the face. With a sudden wash of cold, he realised it was the same person he had seen twice before; except it wasn't a person. On the previous occasions, he had tried to convince himself it was one of the brothers; now he couldn't hide in that illusion. It took a step towards him; the whispering wrapped around it.
Mallory felt an overpowering dread coming off the figure that left him rooted, his limbs as cold as ice, his neck and back hot; it was his mind's natural revulsion to the supernatural. It was no ghost, he was sure of it, but he had no idea exactly what it was, only that it reeked of otherworldly threat. Yet how something like that could walk the hallowed ground escaped him.
He backed down to the corridor and levelled his sword at it. His action didn't deter its measured progress down the steps. His name echoed around him, the word insubstantial, the sentiment cold and hard and unyielding. It said, Here is something that wants you, that will stop at nothing to get you.
He considered striking out at it, but if the blow was futile it would leave him too close; it would be able to touch him and the thought of that was more than he could bear. As it closed on him, his dread increased until he could no longer look at the darkness where the face should be. It was more than simple fear of the unknown; a part of him somehow knew that here was a revelation too awful for him to accept; here were all the things he was frantically escaping.
And then he was running back down the corridor, through rooms unimaginable, waiting for the building to let him out into the night.
Mallory eventually found Daniels waiting outside the chapter house an hour later. The lauds of the dead was filtering through from the cathedral.
'Well, thank heavens for that,' Daniels said tartly. 'I thought I was going to have to send in a search party. Did you enjoy your rest period?'
'I tried to find you. I couldn't get out of the place.' It had taken Mallory a long time to shake off the effects of what he had seen, and he certainly didn't feel like raising it again with Daniels.
'This place gives me the creeps.' Daniels looked uncomfortably towards where the transformed building began. 'It felt as though it was herding me out of there. I'd be a happy man if I didn't have to go in again.'
Mallory followed his gaze. 'I'll second that. But I bet you any money that if we want to find out what's happening here, that's exactly where we'll have to go.'
The announcement was made the following day: digging would commence on November die first after plans had been drawn up and preliminary excavations opened. The haste to begin underlined the seriousness of their predicament. An uproarious outpouring of relief and optimism followed. The brothers flooded out of the cathedral into a light drizzle, eager to believe that the worst was over and they could get back to their primary mission of rebuilding God's kingdom.
By nine am the rain had become a downpour, the skies so slate-grey overhead that in the oppressive shadow of the new buildings it almost seemed like night. Water cascaded from the mouths of gargoyles to gush noisily on the stone flags, or spouted off the ends of roofs to catch unawares any brother foolish enough to walk too close to the walls.
Classes continued for most of the knights, excepting the elite Blues whom Blaine appeared to think no longer needed tuition. They were rarely seen by the other knights, always busy on some mysterious task Blaine had set them deep in the sprawling body of the cathedral buildings.
Mallory could barely keep his mind on the studies. Before, it had seemed irritating; now, it was merely irrelevant. The image of the monk moving slowly down the stairs played repeatedly in his mind, interspersed with thoughts of Sophie and a growing acceptance of his deep attraction to her. The two things pulled him back and forth, darkness and light, fear and love, combining with a general sense of paralysis at his inability to do anything productive that might get him out of that place. And that, he had decided, was what he wanted more than anything else: Sophie with him, miles between them and Salisbury and damn the consequences. Even his desire for payback against Blaine and the Church authorities paled beside it.
He had doubts that he could ever convince her, especially after what had happened with Gardener, but he had a long-shot idea how he might make it work.
Mallory woke at first light, aching from the pointless, wearying tasks they were increasingly set. Miller was already sitting up in the thin grey light, his rough blankets pulled tightly around him against the cold.
'I think something bad's going to happen,' Miller said bluntly.
'To be honest, that's not much of a revelation,' Mallory said sleepily. 'Under siege. The forces of hell at the gates. Food running out. And, I might add, having to wake up next to you every morning. This is the definition of bad.'
'No, I think something bad's going to happen today.'
Mallory rolled over; another few minutes' sleep would be good and luxuries were few and far between. 'You're just spooked because it's Hallowe'en.'
'Exactly! It isn't just some stupid kids' holiday any more, Mallory. Everything now is exactly how we were afraid it would be when we were children. Those things out there… this is their day!'
'Shut up, Miller. We're safe in here. Protected by the Blue Fire,' he added sardonically. He pulled the blanket over his head. 'Safe as houses till we starve to death.'
Hipgrave pulled Mallory to one side after the herbalism class. He had appeared a different person since they had returned from their nightmarish excursion, more introspective, somehow.
'Can I have a word?' he said. His eyes darted around, uncomfortable at being seen with the black sheep.
'What's up?'
'What do you think's going on here, Mallory?'
'Why are you asking me?'
'Because you've got a different perspective on things. You know He floundered.
'An ungodly one,' Mallory said.
Hipgrave nodded, oblivious to the humour. He'd developed a nervous habit of rubbing the knuckles on the back of his left hand; Mallory could see that one of them was sore and callouses had started to build up on the others. 'This whole place…'He motioned a little too animatedly around the mysterious architecture.'… it's not right. No one seems to realise it's all changed… But they half-remember… They talk about it being a result of the Glory of God.' He paused. 'But I don't see how it can be. It doesn't feel right.' He stared off into the middle-distance. 'I can't talk to Blaine about it.'
'I've got no answers, Hipgrave.'
The captain's eyes held a devastating desperation that suggested life was slipping away from him. He clutched at Mallory's sleeve. 'If we can sort this out, Mallory, everything will be all right.' He held on for a second and then drifted slowly away.
'Hipgrave's losing it,' Mallory said baldly. 'Please excuse the complete lack of sympathy in my voice.'
Miller, Daniels and Gardener followed him across the grassy area that circumnavigated the sprawling cathedral buildings. It was only five p.m. and already dark; it seemed to be getting darker significantly earlier every day. Moonlight cast long, deep shadows all around.
'We gave him a chance to stand with us,' Gardener said. 'But he's too much of a shit to be decent.'
'Well, aren't you the heart of compassion,' Daniels jibed.
'You weren't so pleasant when he got Blaine to give you another ten laps on the circuit training.' Gardener lit a roll-up, drawing the smoke in deeply.
'I think you're all being too hard on him,' Miller ventured. 'Yes, he has been unpleasant in the past, but he needs us now, and as Christians we need to give him support… extend the hand of friendship.'
'Shut up, Miller,' they all chanted in unison.
They reached the walls and climbed the ladder to the walkway. The guard greeted them with a curt nod and
