The next two floors passed in a blur of tension. Church knew the Libertarian would not have departed; he was sickened to realise he was starting to know him as well as he knew himself. There was a thick vein of sadism in the pacing of his torment: how long could the Libertarian hold off before moving in to strike?
'Why don't you kill them?' The sly voice appeared at his right ear.
Church whirled again. A glimpse of red eyes disappearing into the dark. 'Come closer and see what you get, you bastard!' Church yelled.
The crowd grew more agitated. As he pushed forwards, the flat of his blade clipped a woman's head and she shrieked as if he had stabbed her. Angry shouts deafened him. Someone punched his back; another tried to grab Caledfwlch and he had to throw the man to one side, brandishing the sword as a threat. It only maddened the crowd further.
Stay calm, he told himself. Any more and they'll rip you limb from limb.
Buying time, he apologised to the woman and placated those near to him, before moving on. Three more floors passed slowly, but as he entered the eighth floor down he caught a wisp of smoke.
You bastard. It was all Church had time to think before the panic started. Off to his left a dim light flickered, growing larger by the second as the blaze spread swiftly through the tinder-dry building, the jumble of possessions, bedding and shelters. Deafening shrieks became one voice as the entire floor moved as a single entity towards the stairs, crushing and trampling. Church was carried along in the flow, choking from the thick, acrid smoke as the temperature in the room intensified rapidly.
Soon even the supernatural darkness could not contain the inferno, and it blazed brightly as it raced across the room, consuming people, bringing down roof timbers in a cascade of sparks, raising a wall of heat that felled the young and the old as soon as it touched them.
'You don't have to kill them all!' Church raged impotently, torn between fury and bitter guilt that an entire building filled with people was being slaughtered just to get at him.
'Oh, but I do.'
Church turned, and there was the Libertarian, his eyes as red as the flames that formed an infernal halo around him.
'Almost like looking in a mirror, isn't it?'
Before Church could raise Caledfwlch, the Libertarian jabbed a finger into a pressure point on Church's neck and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.
3
For once the streets of the Court of Endless Horizons were empty. Through the maze of dark alleys, side streets, squares and gardens, Bearskin and Shadow John led Veitch and Shavi at a breathless pace. Occasionally, Bearskin would stop to sniff the air or examine the dusty ground. To Shavi, there was never anything to be seen, but Bearskin would always nod and move on confidently.
It was Shadow John who forged the way, ensuring no obstacles lay in their path so they could advance at speed.
'How the bleedin' hell do you do that?' Veitch asked him as they moved quickly through another square packed with market stalls.
Smiling, Shadow John leaned in and tapped the side of his left eye. 'I am more at home in the shadows than I am in the light,' he said. 'That is where my true nature becomes clear. Best not to look too closely.'
Shavi closed his ears to the screams that regularly punctured the dark, but his alien eye would not allow him any respite. It had taken to showing him a constant procession of the spirits of the recently departed as they made their way towards the Grim Lands. In the grey stream, he saw the echoes of the terror of their final moments, and the dismay, and the confusion about their current state, so rapidly had they been snatched from life. The stream was becoming a flood. He wanted to look away, but could not.
'The Enemy are using the darkness as cover to slaughter in their search for us,' he said.
Veitch was enough of a friend to catch the hint of distress in Shavi's words, and he gave Shavi's arm a comforting squeeze. 'We all knew it was going to get a lot worse, mate,' Veitch said quietly. 'Keep your head up. We're going to make the bastards pay for what they're doing.'
Though he could not ignore the ghosts, Shavi responded to Veitch's words and refocused on the search.
Bearskin came to a sudden halt. 'I smell smoke,' he said suspiciously.
'Here!' Shadow John had disappeared into the gloom a few paces ahead, but he raced back excitedly. 'I think I have found what you are searching for. But we have company!'
Hurrying close behind him, they came to the stone wall of some impressive building, its shape and identity lost to the dark. A small pitched-roof porch protruded from the wall, with Doric columns flanking a gate of iron railings. Three of the Aztec warriors were using their spears to try to break the gate's padlock. Round, staring eyes roving in their mosaic skulls, they turned and brought their spears up sharply to attack.
'What are they?' Shavi asked.
'Don't bother getting into details,' Veitch said. 'Two categories — friend or foe. And they're not friends.' He drew his sword, the blue and black flames fighting for space along the blade. Shavi thought obliquely that there was more of the Blue Fire than he had seen before.
With astonishing speed, Bearskin loaded the blunderbuss that hung from his belt and fired. Flames and a cloud of black smoke exploded from the broad barrel and the head of one of the warriors disintegrated. The body took a couple more steps before realising it was dead.
Coughing, Bearskin wafted the smoke away. 'Apologies, friends of the hunt. I must find myself a better gun.' He shook his head. 'The number of times I have been left with a few flecks of fur and a morsel of meat-'
'You never learn,' Shadow John agreed.
Veitch hacked the head and an arm off the second warrior, but the third was causing him some difficulty. It moved rapidly, ducking beneath his attacks and jabbing with the spear. The razor-sharp obsidian blade sliced through Veitch's clothes and drew blood.
As Veitch lunged, the warrior whirled the spear's blunt end against Veitch's calf, upending him. The spear whirled again, ready to plunge into the prostrate Veitch's chest. Shavi grabbed the warrior's arm. As the warrior prepared to drive his wooden sword into Shavi's face, Veitch brought his own sword up into the warrior's gut. On his feet in an instant, Veitch rapidly made sure the warrior was dead.
'What are you doing, you mad bastard?' Veitch raged at Shavi. 'Don't ever get involved in a fight again. You'll get yourself killed.'
'Sorry. I thought I was saving your life,' Shavi replied wryly.
'Well, don't. It's my job to get hacked to pieces. It's your job to be all smart and mystical and bloody Confucius-like.' Taking a deep breath, Veitch cleaned his sword. 'But thanks anyway.'
Shavi grinned. 'Perhaps I could get a sword.'
'Don't push it.'
A loud clank echoed as the padlock dropped to the flags. Shadow John gave a flourish and swung the gate open.
'What's in there?' Veitch peered into the interior. It was even darker than the surrounding city.
'Why, the Labyrinth of the Court of Endless Horizons, of course,' Bearskin replied. 'It lies beneath the queen's palace. Every year the court would have a challenge with a prize of unimaginable value for any who could navigate the Labyrinth and defeat whatever foul thing the queen had let loose down there.'
'You've entered it?' Veitch enquired. 'You know your way through?'
'Entered the Labyrinth?' Bearskin exclaimed. 'I am no fool.'
'No one has ever survived the Labyrinth,' Shadow John explained.
'And now you're trying to get us to go in there.' Veitch glanced at Shavi. 'Is it just me or is there a pattern to our lives?'
'The scent of the Fragile Creature was rising up from the catacombs along our way. It could only be that somehow she has found her way into the Labyrinth through one of its many entrances,' Bearskin explained.