more of it.'
'We don't want any of that weak talk.' There was an uncommonly harsh edge to Gardener's voice. 'If we go soft now we won't stand a chance. You think those things out there are soft? You think the Devil's soft?'
'All right, Gardener, calm down.' Daniels laid a steadying hand on his shoulder. 'We're all in this together and we'll all play our part.'
Mallory wanted to talk about how the loss of personal freedom and the involvement of the Inquisition in a criminal affair was more evidence of the medieval mentality that had infected the cathedral, but he bit his tongue. There were times when there was no arguing with Gardener.
Miller was pale and wide-eyed. 'I've been thinking-'
'You don't learn, do you, Miller?' Mallory said.
'No one in this cathedral could have done that awful thing to the bishop,' Miller continued. 'You say those creatures outside can't come in here, but do we know that for sure? I think this is linked to the appearance of all the new buildings. Sometimes they seem as though they go on for ever. The killer… the Devil… could be hiding in there.'
They all thought about this for a moment until Mallory said, 'Have you had a blow to the head, Miller? A good idea — unbelievable.'
'We should tell Hipgrave…' Daniels began, until he saw the captain's blank expression as he wandered along the lines splitting the knights into groups.
'This is down to us,' Gardener said, with fire. 'We've got to search the place.'
'We'll have to do it without Blaine knowing,' Mallory said. 'He'll think we're just skiving. Or worse, involved in some way. It'll be hard.'
Gardener gripped his wrist forcefully. 'We can do it.'
Strands of luminescent mist drifted eerily across the rolling moor, collecting in the hollows where it turned with a life of its own. Boulders of dark- grey granite were scattered here and there amongst clumps of spiky gorse and saplings swaying gently in the breeze. It was night. Across the sable sky a trail of stars swirled, diamond lights, cold and sharp. A full moon hung high overhead casting a bright light that painted the landscape silver and sent long black shadows stretching out across the stony path along which Mallory walked. It had the feel of late-summer- turning-autumn about it: still warm enough for shirt sleeves but with an encroaching chill.
Mallory paused to survey the moon and stars for a long period. They mesmerised him, spoke loudly of infinite wonder and distant magic. The air smelled so good, thick with the rich perfume of night-time vegetation. His breathing was deep; he felt at peace.
He followed the path across the moor to a thick glade on a hill that rose up out of the flat countryside. The oak and ash, rowan and hawthorn were all ancient, their trunks twisted, their branches heavy and gnarled. Beneath their cover it was cooler, tranquil. Dry twigs crunched beneath his feet; the leaf mould felt like a carpet.
'Hello, Mallory.'
Her voice sounded like the chime of a crystal glass, filling him with such a swell of emotion that he felt as if he was rising off the ground.
'Everything is so heightened here,' he said.
'You'll get used to it.'
Sophie leaned nonchalantly against an oak tree, her arms folded. He thought how beautiful she looked there, not just in the superficial qualities of her features, but in the complexity of intelligence he saw in her dark eyes; there were depths he could never plumb. Emotions rose in him mysteriously, the truth freed from the chains of conditioning and fear. In that potent place, the pure part of him that he kept tucked away recognised connections not made on any physical plane, bonds that transcended consciousness.
'You look amazing,' he said.
She laughed gently. 'You are so going to regret saying that when you're out of this place.'
The moon broke through the branches to highlight her, centre stage. 'Why are we here?' he asked.
Once more dark and troubled, she looked away through the trees, out across the rolling moor. 'I wanted to see you.'
Her mood triggered his memory of the incident in the camp with Gardener, and all the blood. 'I'm sorry for what happened,' he said. 'I felt bad about that. If I could have found any way to put it right…'
'I can see that now. Here, in this place, things are much clearer. That's why I came.'
Puzzled, he looked around as if he were seeing the glade for the first time. 'This place-'
'Here we strip away the barriers we put up against the world.' She smiled again. 'Well, you do. I'm used to it.'
Perspective began creeping up on him. 'Am I dreaming?'
'If you want to look at it with a limited perception, sure.'
'You're as infuriating in my dreams as you are in real life.'
'I try,' she said.
'Are you practising your Craft? Is that what this is?'
'I don't practice any more, Mallory. I'm a professional at this now.' She stepped away from the tree and led the way deeper into the glade. Mallory followed her without a second thought. Her voice floated back to him, detached, ethereal. 'So… now I've seen you… seen the truth in you… I forgive you.'
'Thank you.'
'But not those who you hang out with. Never that.'
'No.' He wanted to touch her hair, it looked so silky in the moonlight, but she was just a little too far ahead. 'Where is this place?'
'Inside your head. Outside your head. Like I said, it depends on your perception.' Her fingers brushed the trees as she passed as if she were caressing them.
'Can I kiss you?'
She chuckled quietly. 'You want to bite down on those emotions, Mallory, or you're going to have no protection when you get back to the world.'
'Well?' His unrestrained feelings burned through him like electricity. He recognised how deeply he felt about her, wanted to grab her and make love to her, do all the things he couldn't do in the real world of barriers and hardship and obligation. The purity of emotion was so overwhelming it was hallucinogenic, a drug he never wanted to give up. Did she feel the same way?
When she turned to face him, he saw for the first time the honesty in her that she had spoken about in him, and he realised that here, perhaps, was someone with whom he could spend the rest of his life. 'Not this time,' she said. 'I want to be sure I have the measure of you. I choose my friends carefully, Mallory, but once my mind is made up I keep them close to me for ever.'
'You seem so much older than your age.'
'Not older, wiser. I'm a wise woman. I've learned a lot in my few years, but there's a lot more to learn. Stick with me, Mallory — some of it might rub off.'
'I'd like that.'
This time she covered her mouth when she laughed. 'You are going to be so sick the next time we meet face to face.'
'You're in your camp… I'm trapped in the cathedral,' he began. 'Can we meet up like this again?'
'Very Romeo and Juliet, isn't it?' She looked a little sad at this. 'Yes, we can meet again.'
'How do I come here… contact you?'
'You don't. I'm in charge here, Mallory, don't forget that.' Her laughter was infectious; he felt an honest smile for the first time in a long while. 'I'll be back in touch.'
She moved off through the trees, but although he tried to keep up, she drew ahead rapidly. 'Don't go,' he called.
Her voice came back like moonlight. 'I'll be back.' And then she was gone.
And so was he.
Mallory woke in the best mood he had felt for a long time, not knowing why, but with the sense of something wonderful hovering just beyond his grasp. Even the biting cold of the room didn't dull his elation.
It was still two hours to daybreak, but the cathedral was already alive. Torches blazed around the cobbled meeting square at the heart of the new buildings. Breath formed white clouds as the knights stamped their boots
