Sophie didn't appear to hear. They paused at the wooden bridge crossing the ditch to the old Norman castle; the gates that Mallory had scrambled over with Miller had now been torn asunder.
They passed amongst the ruins of the gatehouse into the inner bailey. Within the remaining fortifications, the silence had an overwhelming quality, as if the entire place was holding its breath. The snow lay thick and undisturbed across the circular area of the inner stronghold. The raised ramparts prevented any view of the surrounding countryside and cast a long, cold shadow over half of the interior, warning of the impending end of daylight.
Ahead of them lay the corbelled flint of what was left of the great tower. To the right were the remains of the royal palace. Sophie closed her eyes, swaying slightly, before striding purposefully to the centre of the site.
Mallory waited patiently while she drew a circle around them in the snow and then marked the cardinal points. She had already collected items from outside the site — what to Mallory had seemed only leaves and other pieces of dead vegetation — and these she deposited at intervals around the circumference. When she had finished this, she squatted down with her back to Mallory and began to whisper so he couldn't make out her words.
This continued for ten full minutes. Despite his thick cloak, Mallory began to shiver as a cold wind blew up from nowhere. Sophie stood, a little shakily, and leaned on him for support. 'It's done,' she said.
'What now?'
'We'll see.' She bit her lip.
The wind continued to blow, and after a while Mallory realised it was sweeping back and forth with a life of its own. He had the uncomfortable feeling that something was searching for a way through the circle.
'Over there,' Sophie whispered.
She pointed towards what Mallory at first took to be a glistening patch of snow. It shimmered just above the rim of the Iron-Age ramparts, but then began to hover about two feet off the ground. As it neared, Mallory could see something within the ball of light, and when it was only a few feet from them he realised it was a tiny humanoid figure, all gold as if the light was radiating from its skin. Horns protruded from its forehead, but its eyes were black and gleaming, like little windows on to space.
It floated around the edge of the circle, then drifted away towards the royal palace ruins.
'I think we have to follow it,' Sophie said.
'Can we break the circle?' Mallory looked towards the sun, now bisected by the ramparts.
'I don't think we have a choice.'
Cautiously, they stepped outside. Instantly, the wind dropped and all was still again. The tiny figure waited for them, then led them past the palace and over the edge of the defences. They had no choice but to go down the precipitously steep bank where it was impossible to gain a foothold. They skidded, then rolled and fell in the deep snow, winding themselves as they hit the bottom of the ditch.
Covered in snow from head to toe, they clambered out into the wide expanse of the outer bailey, but their guide didn't slow. They hurried behind it to the site of the old cathedral, the ground plan visible in the stumps of walls protruding through the white. Down rotting wooden steps they stumbled, into a regular area that had once been the cloister, and then into a room that lay lower than the surroundings. Once there, the golden figure soared high until it disappeared.
Mallory felt uneasy; there was only one exit from the room. A fizzing in the snow near his feet attracted his attention.
'There's something in the air,' Sophie said, shaking the snow from her hair. 'Power… danger… The whole place is charged.'
Squinting, Mallory could make out coruscating blue energy just beneath the snow cover. He squatted down and brushed aside the flakes to reveal a faint sapphire arc crackling across six inches. The urge to touch it overwhelmed him. Sophie rested a hand on his shoulder for support.
It felt cool and soothing; strength flowed into his limbs. He closed his hand around the energy flow, then made to stand up, expecting his fingers to pass through it like water. Instead, the Blue Fire came up with him, more of it rising from the ground in a regular structure: two uprights connected by a crossbar that lay just beneath the arc.
When he withdrew his fingers, it continued to rise until it stood just over six feet high, the energy painting the snow blue all around and throwing dancing shadows across their faces.
'What is it?' Mallory said in awe.
Sophie slipped an arm in the crook of one of his, transfixed by the light. 'It looks like… a door.'
Mallory shrugged. 'Well, we can see what's on the other side. Maybe we should…'
They stepped through together.
It felt as if warm rain was on their skin, even beneath their clothes. When their feet fell on the other side, they jolted; everything had changed.
They could taste the air, a thousand complex flavours stirring their senses at once. The quality of light made their heads spin; it felt like the seaside on a steely bright morning. The landscape was the same — the ruins of the cathedral, the snow — except for the figures standing silently all around, or squatting on the broken masonry, watching them.
At first, they appeared to Mallory like blurred shadows, an aberration that he could blink away. He had an impression of tall, slender figures oozing golden light. But then they diminished, became more squat.
A voice sounded like broken glass, the echoes rolling out across the plateau. 'This is how you see us now.'
And then everything fell into relief. The figures were barely more than three feet tall, though fully formed adults. There were men and women, young and old, dressed in medieval-style clothing in shades of scarlet and green. Their eyes glittered horribly. From most, Mallory felt contempt and threat potent enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. Others appeared curious, a few, amused.
One stepped forwards on to a pile of stone that had been the wall of the north transept, a few feet above Mallory's head. He was younger than most, long golden hair falling down from a high crown; his features were cruel, his regard cold.
'We will grow in stature again,' he said icily.
Mallory's eyes darted around. He felt particularly uneasy about the ones unseen at his back. Sophie, though, was concentrating on the matter at hand. 'Greetings,' she said. 'How may I address you?'
The spokesman bowed his head slightly, though his mood did not thaw. 'You may call me by the name known to your kinsmen: Abarta.' He nodded as he surveyed them. 'I see you are a Brother and Sister of Dragons. In some quarters that standing commands respect.'
But not here, Mallory thought. Under his cloak he moved his hand on to the hilt of his sword, though he knew he could do nothing if they attacked as one.
Abarta smiled like a sneaky child. 'This is our cathedral now. The ground is unconsecrated… disempowered.' He motioned towards the expanse of the outer bailey. 'Welcome to Sorviadun. That is how your people knew it once. The fortress by the gentle river.''
'Thank you for allowing us into your home,' Sophie said with studied deference. 'We come to you with a plea for help.'
'We heard your call. There are few who know how to bridge the wall between worlds. You have a fine ability… for a Fragile Creature.' A ripple of cold, contemptuous laughter ran through the assembled group. Mallory watched one of the men sitting cross-legged on the top of a stone column, cleaning his nails with a long curved knife. He smiled dangerously when he saw Mallory looking at him. Abarta eyed Mallory curiously. 'The sword, Llyrwyn, has long been lost to your world, and here it is in the hands of a Fragile Creature. I hope it has chosen its new champion well.'
The setting was so alien, fraught with so many potential dangers, that Mallory wasn't comfortable speaking; he felt instinctively that the slightest word out of line could bring the strange, threatening creatures on them in a frenzy. Sophie, though, took the lead confidently.
'We ask for your guidance,' she began. 'There is a force loose in our world that has tormented our people, attempted to destroy those of a spiritual nature… taken our children…'
Abarta stayed her with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'That will come later. First, let us examine this role of yours, Dragon-Sister. You are both still bright. It would seem to me that the responsibilities of your office have only recently been laid on your shoulders. Is this so?'
