‘How do you know this is the right place?’ Thackeray asked.
‘All the other scenes had an odd artificial quality, as if the backgrounds were films projected on to the walls of the room,’ Sophie said. ‘This one looked real.’
‘It doesn’t make sense. It’s too much of a coincidence.’ He looked at Sophie suspiciously, as if she was about to turn into a monster like Caitlin.
‘Two things,’ she said. ‘One, I felt it in my gut, and I think it was the Pendragon Spirit telling me that this was the right door. Two, there are no coincidences. I think we were meant to find the way out, like we were meant to do lots of other things.’
‘That’s kind of creepy,’ Harvey said.
‘Let’s move,’ Sophie said. ‘Caitlin will be through soon.’
‘You really think so?’ Thackeray said. Sadness flashed across his face, but Sophie was impressed to see him constrain it.
‘She’s a killing machine with the powers of a god. No compassion, no empathy. She’s not going to stop until I’m dead,’ Sophie said bitterly. ‘And you know what the worst thing is? I helped to make her this way… and I gave up an utterly valuable, unique thing to do it. And now I’m going to die as well. That’s irony for you.’
Thackeray went to comfort her, but before he could, Harvey hailed them. ‘I don’t think we’ve got far to go before we find somewhere to hole up,’ he said, motioning to the road sign he had just cleaned off.
It said: Oxford.
In his arctic survival clothes supplied by the quartermaster, Hal was almost unrecognisable as he trudged, head bowed, through the blizzard. Perhaps that was why Manning didn’t notice him as she crossed the High Street on her way to the Cabinet offices.
It was a random moment that at any other time would have passed Hal by, but he was lost in thoughts of the Otherworld and its strange inhabitants and suddenly he was struck by a revelation. He’d always been suspicious of Manning’s intentions, even before he had heard her talking to a seemingly invisible companion that night before the invasion had started. He’d dismissed the troubling event, sure he’d misheard, perhaps misinterpreted, had too much else on his mind. But now he knew there was something abnormal about her.
Even though she wore a fur coat and hat, they were scant protection against the cold, but when she passed Hal it was clear that the bitter temperatures weren’t affecting her at all.
With the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, Hal made the decision to follow her. It was out of character for someone who paid little attention to instinct — he preferred things hard and fast — but he felt such an imperative that he knew he would regret it if he didn’t.
Hal allowed Manning to reach the far end of the High Street before he turned and followed her, and that was when he noticed the second strange thing. He had been staring at her tracks in the fresh snow when he realised that there was not one set of footprints but two, intermingling so closely that if he had not been paying close attention he would have missed it.
With growing apprehension, Hal kept behind Manning until she disappeared into Oriel College. He anticipated that she would first be heading to her own complex of offices, which lay on the first floor of the building. Hal quickly hurried in through another entrance and made his way up a parallel flight of stairs so that he could approach from the opposite direction and, if discovered, it would not appear that he had followed her.
The building was quiet and he heard Manning moving around her office. There was a single set of footsteps at first, and then, eerily, there were two sets.
Hal edged cautiously along the corridor until he could peer in through the window in the door. The blind on the window was half-closed, impairing his view, but he could see Manning from the waist down. She was talking to someone just out of sight.
‘Things are falling into place. Reid doesn’t suspect a thing.’
‘This is a strange alliance.’ The voice was strong and resonant. Hal craned to see who was speaking
‘That doesn’t matter if it works to our mutual benefit. Now, timing is essential. Are you prepared?’
‘I am. Are you? There will be great hardship for your kind.’
‘I’m ready. Don’t worry about me-’
Hal bumped against the door and rattled the blind in his attempt to see the mysterious visitor. Immediately, he sprinted quietly along the corridor and turned the corner on to the stairs just as the office door opened. He was sure Manning hadn’t seen him, or if she had glimpsed him wouldn’t be able to identify him, but he was angry with himself for alerting her before any action could be taken.
He slipped out of the building into the heart of the blizzard, relieved that it would cover his tracks.
At Queen’s, Hal found Reid lounging in a chair, drinking a brandy in front of a blazing fire. He appeared at ease despite the impending crisis.
‘Ms Manning,’ Hal said breathlessly. ‘I think she’s a traitor. I think she’s going to sell us all down the river.’
‘Sit down. Have a drink.’ Reid stood and thrust Hal into the chair by the fire, then stuffed a crystal glass of brandy into his hand. ‘Now, tell me what you know.’
Hal blurted out what he had seen. Reid listened intently, then muttered, ‘This changes everything.’
‘Are you going to arrest her?’
‘Of course. But if there’s a conspiracy, I want to know who else is involved before I tip my hand.’
‘She stressed that you didn’t suspect anything. I’m sorry if I’ve made her suspicious now.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Reid stared into the depths of the fire while he thought things through. Finally he said, ‘The Void is coming soon. I’ve got new intelligence. The only chance we have to stop it is to get the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons together.’ He turned to Hal. ‘I believe Hunter to be one of them.’
Hal said nothing.
‘The research carried out by Kirkham’s team suggests that the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons become active — if that’s the right word — in proximity to the crisis they’re meant to deal with, or they are quickly drawn to that area. We’d already profiled a great many people in Oxford — that’s why we’ve been carrying out a detailed census in recent weeks. Hunter was one of a very few who fit the profile.’
‘How did you know Oxford was going to be the centre of the crisis?’
‘The Government is here. It became obvious that this is where the last stand will be made.’ Reid downed the rest of his brandy. ‘I was ninety per cent sure about Hunter. When he disappeared with Mallory, I knew I was right.’ Reid eyed Hal. ‘Anything you want to say?’
Hal shook his head.
‘You’re his very best friend. I’m not stupid, you know. He must have told you.’
Hal remained silent, but Reid wasn’t offended. He shrugged and said, ‘I believe Hunter is getting his little band together. We need them here, now, if we are to stand a chance. Can you get word to him?’
‘I don’t think Hunter or any of the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons will work with the Government. They don’t trust you… us.’
Reid nodded. ‘Understandable, I suppose. In which case, I face a conundrum.’
‘I don’t know where they are, Mister Reid, and that’s the truth.’
‘Then all I’m asking of you, Hal — begging you — is that when Hunter does finally contact you, as he undoubtedly will, I want you to pass on to him the message that the last stand against the Void will be made here, and that he really needs to be with us. We’re in the final stage of this game, Hal, and what may be the twilight days of the human race. None of us must falter.’
Chapter Fourteen
The Secrets Of God
‘ Mankind, when left to themselves, are unfit for their own government.’
George Washington
The screeching blast of the siren tore Hal from troubled dreams of betrayal and hatred. He scrambled out of his bed into the freezing cold room and ran to the window. Through the thick frost that
lined the glass inside and out he could just discern frantic activity. Soldiers carrying rifles raced along the street. A few seconds later, a truck packed with more soldiers followed a snowplough down the centre of the road.
Hal’s first thought was that either Manning had launched some kind of coup or that Reid had arranged for her arrest and some kind of disturbance had broken out. Still half-asleep, he stripped off the several layers of clothing he’d taken to wearing in bed, splashed some water on his face and quickly dressed.
He was barely out of his room when Samantha came running up the corridor in a state of distress.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said, catching her in his arms.
She sobbed against his shoulder for a moment before she calmed enough to tell him. ‘It’s the prime minister — he’s been assassinated.’
‘What happened? Tell me.’ Hal gently pushed Samantha away from him so that he could look in her face.
‘I don’t know.’ She wiped her tears away with the back of one hand. ‘No one’s releasing any details. All we’ve heard is that it happened about half an hour ago. They’re shutting down all buildings and instituting an immediate curfew while they search for the killer.’
Hal’s jaw gaped in shock. Is that what Manning had been planning? If so, Reid must be devastated at not having acted immediately. But then no one could have foreseen it. Who would possibly kill their leader on the eve of a battle that would determine the survival of the human race? He decided not to tell Samantha anything about Manning and his conversation with Reid in case it put her in danger.
‘If we’re being confined to our quarters, I wanted to be here with you,’ she said.
Hal took her back inside and quickly made up the fire. Once it was roaring, he brewed up and they sat warming themselves while they drank their herbal infusion.
‘I don’t know what’s going to happen to us,’ Samantha said desolately. ‘I always had hope that things were going to turn out all right… they always do, don’t they? Or did. Even at the Fall, when it seemed as if it was the end. We pulled through that. But now I’m not so sure.’
‘Things will work out,’ Hal said with as much optimism as he could muster. ‘There are a lot of good people working on our behalf.’
Samantha didn’t look convinced, so Hal changed the subject. ‘I’ve been doing a bit more research on the mystery we found at Shugborough and I think I’ve made a breakthrough.’ He fetched a pile of books and papers from his desk and spread them out around her.
‘I don’t know how you can think about that at a time like this,’ Samantha muttered.
‘Because it might be our only hope,’ Hal said simply.
Reluctantly, she picked up a book of illustrations of one of the Grail romances. ‘What’s this? King Arthur?’
‘The stone with the Poussin image inside was found at Cadbury Hill, one of the supposed locations of Camelot. There are lots of Arthurian links floating around this whole business. I’m starting to think that maybe the legend of King Arthur is a code, too, like the Poussin painting and the Shepherds’ Monument — that the stories themselves and elements of them are meant to be symbolic. And that somehow they tie in to what we’re looking for.’
‘Sounds a bit tenuous,’ Samantha said, unconvinced.
‘Not really. Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, was supposed to have come from the Otherworld. And that’s where he went when he died. And the Poussin painting is of a tomb, and the mystery surrounding it points to T’ir n’a n’Og.’
‘Arthur’s Tomb?’
‘Like I said, it’s a code. We shouldn’t take it at face value.’
‘But the King Arthur legend goes back centuries before Poussin, even. How long has all this been weaving together?’
‘Ah,’ Hal said with a smile. ‘That’s the mystery.’
Before he could say any more, they were disturbed by the sound of numerous booted feet running along the corridor without. Doors were flung open, orders barked. Hal’s door crashed wide and a grim-faced soldier stood there brandishing a rifle as if he was prepared to shoot Hal and Samantha on the spot.
‘There’s a curfew,’ he said. ‘No one’s to leave their quarters.’
‘We heard the news,’ Hal said. ‘Who’s in charge?’
The soldier’s cold eyes observed Hal with near-contempt for a moment before he replied, ‘The General.’ And then he was gone and Hal’s many other questions were left unanswered: what about the rest of the Cabinet? Where was Reid? And what did the General plan to do now?
The journey from Glastonbury had been hard, over roads and fields that resembled the Arctic wastes in the face of a wind that raked at their flesh day and night. Mallory wished he could have turned his back on his responsibilities and stayed behind in the magical atmosphere of the sunlit Tor. When the summer gave way to winter as he passed the limit of the Culture’s influence, he felt a palpable pang of despair and looked back repeatedly until the blizzard blocked the glowing uplands from view. The biting cold and the dark days felt more than just a physical hardship; they were signs of a world bereft of hope, winding down to die as the last candle guttered.
With his mood still tainted by the loss of Sophie, it would have been easy to give in to despair, but Shavi was there on the horse at his side with quiet words of encouragement. Mallory already felt that he could trust the young Asian man with his life. Shavi was the most spiritual person Mallory had ever met; the peace he radiated was almost contagious, filtering in through Mallory’s pores, neutralising his blackest thoughts, shining a light into the dark areas of his soul. Mallory knew that over time the Brothers and Sisters of Dragons increasingly exhibited peculiar abilities, and this, he decided, was Shavi’s: the magic of the soul, given strength and weight. That description had an uneasily religious tang for someone like Mallory, who had little time for God or gods, but even he instinctively felt the truth of it.
With the wind howling in their ears, Shavi told Mallory of how he had fled a repressive family in West London for a life of searching. He had hungrily devoured the teachings of every major religion and most of the minor ones, eventually turning to more esoteric knowledge as he quested for his own personal grail. But then he had experienced colourful dreams that drew him into contact with the other Brothers and Sisters of Dragons, much like the insistent pull that had dragged Mallory to Salisbury where he had first encountered Sophie.
‘It’s difficult to get your head around the fact that you’re special,’ Mallory said as he futilely attempted to warm himself beside a raging campfire.
‘I do not consider myself special,’ Shavi replied. ‘I believe we have been given the tools to do a job on behalf of humanity. It is our duty to carry out our task to the best of our abilities. In truth, we are not special, we are servants. We act with humility, not arrogance. We accept sacrifice and suffering. That is our lot.’
Mallory jabbed a branch into the depths of the fire, watching the sparks fly up to meet the falling snow. ‘And is that it? We have to accept misery? There’s no cake when we get to the end of the road?’
Shavi smiled wryly. ‘Happy endings, Mallory? You do not seem the type.’
‘Yeah. Maybe you’re right. I’m an old cynic. But I do have barely repressed romantic leanings.’ Mallory pondered Shavi’s words for a moment, then said, ‘Not so long ago I was told that I come from another world that doesn’t exist any more. Somehow reality changed. My world disappeared, and this world is what we have in its place. Do you think that’s possible?’
‘I think we live in a universe where anything is possible. The only reality that truly matters is the one inside here.’ He gently tapped the position of his third eye, in the middle of his forehead. ‘Something is troubling you. Would you like to talk about it?’
Mallory was surprised; he always guarded his true thoughts and feelings carefully, but Shavi had seen inside him effortlessly. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so taken aback. The initial elation when the gaps in his memory were filled had faded and
the knowledge had developed a gravity that was gradually sucking all of his other thoughts into it.
Mallory told Shavi about the Fabulous Beast and Jenny, the woman who had been possessed by it, or had become its avatar, or some other relationship he couldn’t quite understand. Shavi was both surprised and excited by Mallory’s account.
‘I feel this is very important,’ he said. ‘A bond established between human and Fabulous Beast. It could be a very good omen.’
‘The girl told me that I died in the last world… blew my brains out.’
‘I am sorry.’ Shavi was not being glib; he looked truly upset by Mallory’s bald statement.
‘But I died, do you understand? And now I’m here, alive. This place doesn’t look like heaven. It looks a lot like hell, but I don’t think it’s that, either. You visited the land of the dead on one of your transcendental super-jaunts, so tell me… what does it mean to die? Do you just carry on in some other place, like me? Or is all this some illusion playing out in my dying mind?’
‘Perhaps this world is the Bardo Thodel of the Tibetan mystics, the place between death and birth.’
‘They missed that bit out when I was doing my studies at Salisbury.’
‘The Bardo is central to the Tibetan concept of the afterlife,’ Shavi said. ‘The word means “intermediate state”. The Tibetan mystics believe that all of Existence is nothing but a series of transitional states, which they called Bardos. In the Bardo Thodel, there are three distinct stages between death and rebirth. The Chikai Bardo includes the process of dying and the break-up of the elements that make up the physical body. The Chonyid Bardo is next, with visions of gods, heaven, hell, judgment and so on.’
‘That sounds familiar.’ Mallory found Shavi’s information disturbing in the light of his experience.
‘Finally there is the Sidpa Bardo,’ Shavi continued. ‘During this, the consciousness chooses a new body into which to be born.’
‘Do you believe that?’
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