on all fours, then an amorphous cloud that gradually developed wings and tentacles and sharp edges before disappearing into the gloom.
'Back,' Mallory said.
'No.' Miller caught at his shirt. 'We can't leave Hipgrave.'
'He's a vindictive little shit. He deserves what he gets.' Mallory didn't meet Miller's eyes.
'We can't judge him. That's what the Bible says — we're not supposed to judge. We're all sinful in one way or another.'
'Speak for yourself.'
Miller let go, backed away. 'No, not you, Mallory,' he said sarcastically. 'But the rest of us.' He looked to where the shape had disappeared. 'Well, I'm going anyway. I have to.'
'Don't,' Mallory ordered. 'You stupid bloody idiot. You won't stand a chance.'
Miller set off across the vault while Daniels and Gardener watched Mallory judgementally. Mallory half-turned towards the tunnel, then cursed under his breath. 'Oh, all right then. But if he's in pieces, you carry them back.'
They caught up with Miller, then progressed slowly back to back, watching for an attack from any direction. Miller suddenly called out, 'Over there!'
They could just make out Hipgrave slumped at the foot of a pillar, unmoving. He was still alive but in a daze, his eyes roaming the darkness; and he didn't even notice they were there. He clutched his ribs, but Mallory could see no sign of a wound.
'Hurry up, let's get him back to the tunnel,' he said.
Hipgrave stirred at the sound of his words and responded in a hoarse, detached voice, 'There are things down here…'he began. 'Not trying to get in… to keep us… from getting out.'
From somewhere, a cold breeze blew. They all looked around but could see nothing apart from the shadows dancing at the behest of the torches. A second later, Gardener pitched forwards, clutching at his forehead. Blood splattered across Hipgrave's face.
'Bloody hellfire!' Gardener cursed. He removed his hand to see it was smeared red; a thin line had been traced from temple to temple.
'What was it?' Miller whimpered.
Something moved through the vault, just beneath the arched roof. Mallory saw it only as a fluttering shadow travelling so fast it could easily have been a trick of the torchlight. There must have been another one, for Daniels snapped his head around, puzzled.
'Now can we get out of here?' Mallory said sharply. Just as he turned towards the tunnel, he felt a subtle change in the air currents that signalled the rapid approach of something unseen. He jerked his head to one side. Something tore at his hair and was gone in an instant. As it passed, he heard something, or thought he did, that sounded like a distorted human voice whispering his name.
Daniels crashed across Hipgrave, holding the back of his head. When he rolled over, dazed, Mallory saw a red patch where part of his scalp had been torn away.
Rapid movement broke out in several areas of the vault at once, rushing towards the five of them; the attackers were like giant bats but with otherworldly elements that couldn't be discerned in the half-light.
Mallory swung his sword instinctively, clipping one of the flying creatures. A high-pitched squeal was followed by a rain of liquid and the thud of something hitting the ground.
'Shit!' Daniels exclaimed. 'How did you do that?'
'What can I say — I'm fabulous.' Mallory spun around to strike out at another dark streak, missing it completely. 'But not all the time,' he added.
The death of the bat-creature acted as a spur to the others, which screeched from all directions at once until the air was filled with a flurry of shadows.
Daniels managed to help Hipgrave to his feet, though the flying things tore their flesh with claws and fangs until they were slick with blood. Mallory's frenzied hacking spun him around and the wild activity of the bat- creatures obscured his vision. At one point he realised Miller was near him, desperately trying to fend off the attacks with his inadequate sword- play. As they were driven across the vault, Mallory saw that Daniels and Gardener had dragged Hipgrave into the opposite direction towards the tunnel.
Finally, a wall came into view. Mallory and Miller edged along it, claws tearing through their cloaks and shirts. After a desperate moment they found another tunnel and dived inside.
Mallory had expected to fight a rearguard action all the way, but the moment they left the vault, the bat- creatures dropped back. He didn't question it.
'Come on, they've gone.' He pulled Miller upright; tear stains cut through the blood on his face.
'I can't cope with all this, Mallory,' he said. 'I'm not strong like you.'
'Nobody likes a whinger, Miller. Pull yourself together.' It was said affectionately enough to bring a weak smile to Miller's face.
'Where are the others?'
'They got driven the other way, back the way we came.'
'This isn't the right tunnel?' Miller's voice cracked.
Mallory could see that there was no thin line of blue separating the worlds; they were still on dangerous ground. 'Let's see where it leads us,' he said as emotionlessly as he could manage. He ducked briefly into the vault to pluck a torch from the wall, then led the way ahead.
They continued for fifteen minutes, the tunnel branching at regular intervals until they lost track of the labyrinthine layout.
'Catacombs,' Mallory said to himself. 'We could be down here for ever.'
'We could say a prayer,' Miller ventured.
'Don't be so bloody stupid.' He fiddled with the hilt of his sword, then said reluctantly, 'Oh, go on, if you want to.'
He marched on ahead while Miller muttered behind him. In a little while, they came to a short flight of steps leading up to a doorway with a carved surround depicting the sun, the moon and stars.
'See?' Miller said.
'Coincidence, idiot.' Mallory cautiously climbed the steps. At the top, the doorway opened on to a large domestic room. A log fire roaring in an enormous stone fireplace provided the only source of light. A wooden chair as big as a throne sat before it, while the walls were covered with shelves of books and heavy tapestries. It was so incongruous after the bleak places they had passed through that it brought them up sharp.
'Who lives here?' Miller asked nervously.
Mallory advanced into the chamber cautiously, transferring the torch to his left hand so that he could draw his sword.
'I don't like this,' Miller said. 'We should go back.'
'I thought you prayed for a way out. You can't throw back the gift just because it doesn't meet your expectations.' Mallory knew it was a cheap shot and he resolved not to bait Miller further.
They made their way to the centre of the room, but couldn't see any other way out. 'There,' Miller said. 'We have to go back.'
Mallory had to agree, but there was a soothing atmosphere to the room after the cold and shadows of the tunnels. As they turned to leave, the heavy tramp of footsteps approached. Miller blanched, looked to Mallory. They both glanced towards the doorway, but the sound didn't appear to be coming from that direction.
Disoriented, Mallory looked around in time to see one of the tapestries on the opposite wall being thrust back. A man at least eight feet tall was emerging from another tunnel. At first, Mallory couldn't make out his features — it was as though his eyes were running — but the shape of the frame was undoubtedly that of the killer that had pursued himself and Hipgrave in the tunnels.
Brandishing his sword, Mallory backed away until he realised that Miller was rooted to the spot. 'Come on,' he snapped, but Miller only had eyes for the giant now striding towards them.
As he closed on them, the features became clearer: long hair the colour of coal, a thick beard and black eyes that glowered beneath overhanging brows. He wore a shift made out of something like sackcloth, held tight at the waist by a broad leather belt. A thong bound around his left forearm was fitted with several mysterious hooks, which Mallory guessed had caused the scraping sound he had heard on his previous visit to the tunnels.
