The clattering noise increased. A cacophony of splintered brick and snapped wood.
‘And drawing helps?’ asked Toby.
‘It might. Stand inside the circle and keep your feet within the line.’
‘You’re asking me to just stand still and wait for whatever that is?’
‘I am, and because you’re clever enough to realise that while you may not be trained to face whatever it is, I am, you’ll do it. Now.’
Toby stepped inside the rough circle Shining had drawn. ‘I still think I’d have preferred the gun.’
Shining was moving around on his hands and knees, adding embellishments to the circle, swirls and symbols.
‘That Egyptian?’ Toby asked.
‘Sumerian.’
‘Great. I work in British Intelligence and my section head is writing in Iraqi.’
‘Very ancient Iraqi.’
There was one more crashing noise and then it was replaced with the sound of hooves. Dust poured in torrents from the ceiling.
‘A horse,’ said Toby. ‘Somebody’s riding a horse up there.’
‘No, that would be ridiculous.’
‘I’m glad to hear you say that.’
‘Not somebody, something. You’d never get a real horse and rider up those stairs.’
Toby shook his head and stared at his feet. ‘I am imagining this, aren’t I? Like the story you told me yesterday. This is a hallucination, a trick.’
‘Possibly, but I don’t think so.’
‘You said it wasn’t a real horse and rider…’
‘That doesn’t mean they’re a figment of your imagination. Now shush a minute, I need to concentrate.’
‘Shush a minute?’
The sound of horse’s hooves increased in volume as whatever it was galloped across the length of the floor above, heading towards the stairs.
‘It’s coming.’
‘I know, and you need to not look.’
‘What?’
The hooves began to descend the stairs, Toby saw a glimpse of old bone in the pale light that cut through the shadows.
‘It’s important, Toby. You mustn’t look at it. Close your eyes, stare at your feet – whatever you find easier, but do not look directly at it.’
‘Why?’ The hooves descended even further, a thin band of the horse’s chest now visible, a ragged thing of butchered meat.
‘Because it doesn’t need to touch you to kill you.’ Shining stood in front of Toby and grasped the young man’s head in his hands. ‘Look at the floor.’ He forced Toby’s head forward. ‘Describe your shoes.’
‘What do you mean “describe my shoes”? What earthly fucking point is there in my describing my shoes?’
‘Please, Toby, trust me and do it.’
Toby gave a slight nod but Shining continued to hold his head.
‘Light brown, scuffed. Mismatched laces. I always snap the laces and end up having to replace them. Should replace the shoes too. I get through them so quickly, always buy chain store cheap. Something about the way I walk wears the heel down at an angle. Before you know it I’m on a tilt every time I stand still. What’s the point in spending real money on them?’
The hooves had reached the bottom of the stairway. Their progress slow now, and steady.
‘Keep talking,’ said Shining. ‘In what way do you walk funny?’
‘I don’t know. Not something I’m aware of. It’s only looking at the shoes that you notice. Forty-five degree angle worn out on each heel. Right in the corner.’
‘Do you get back pain?’
The hooves continued towards them. No urgency, just a gentle, casual trot across the cement floor.
‘Let me guess: you’re a trained chiropractor too?’
‘Not sure I go along with chiropractic medicine, actually.’
‘I used to think that, but I went to a guy once – when I was having real back trouble – and he sorted me out a treat.’
‘I suppose there may be benefits as an art of physical manipulation. It’s the notion of “Innate Intelligence” I struggle with – the idea that manipulating the spine can cure your kidney troubles.’
‘I don’t know about all that. But I went in with back pain and I came out without it.’
‘Fair enough. I can be too much of a cynic sometimes.’
Toby and Shining looked at one another and Toby actually felt himself laugh. ‘You’re a mad old bastard, you know that?’
‘I do.’
The hooves circled them.
‘Ignore it,’ Shining insisted as Toby’s head twitched towards the noise. ‘It’s nothing to us. A passer-by. Beneath our attention.’
Toby nodded.
‘My sister,’ said Shining, ‘now she’s a great believer in alternative medicine. I once had to spend an hour having tea with her in Claridge’s with twenty acupuncture needles dangling from her face. The waiting staff ignored it completely of course, even though she kept getting bits of scone stuck on the tips.’
‘What’s your sister’s name?’
‘Have a guess.’
‘June?’
‘Two months out. She’s April.’
‘Your parents really didn’t like to think too hard about names, did they?’
‘Their minds were on other things. I’m lucky I wasn’t born a week later. September Shining – sounds like a Coldplay album.’
The hooves finished their circuit. The horse whinnied, the sound wet and raw.
‘Thank you for not suggesting I was too old to have heard of Coldplay,’ Shining continued. ‘My ears are still functioning perfectly.’
‘Not if they’re listening to Coldplay, they’re not.’
‘You prefer Beethoven, I suppose?’
‘Piss off.’
‘Sorry… Ludwig.’
‘You’re forgiven… September.’
‘So what music do you like?’
‘I don’t know… all sorts…’
‘Please tell me you’re not the sort of man who just listens to the radio and occasionally digs out his two CDs, one of James Bond themes and the other Queen’s Greatest Hits?’
‘No. I like a lot of music. It’s just all a bit—’
The horse whinnied again, this time followed by the sound of something fleshy hitting the floor.
‘—strange. I like atmospheres. Weird sounds. A lot of movie soundtracks. Tom Waits… Love Tom Waits.’
‘“Innocent When You Dream” was always one of my favourites. Rather apt with people running through a graveyard.’
‘You know him then? Don’t suppose he’s one of your agents?’
‘Sadly not… he works out of Langley.’
The hooves began to retreat. Slow, reluctant, heading back towards the stairs.
‘It’s going,’ said Toby.
‘It is.’ The hooves began to ascend the stairs once more. ‘But don’t relax just yet.’
‘As if I would.’
There was a final, terrible cry from the horse and then the hooves galloped across the floor above and there was a loud crash as it departed their world.
Both men sagged against one another in relief.
‘And you think you haven’t got what it takes to survive in Section 37?’ said Shining. ‘I think you’re a natural.’
‘Why am I not finding that a comfort?’
‘The day you get comfortable with any of this would be the day you’d be in the most danger. I’ve been up to my neck in the impossible for fifty years and it still gives me the willies.’
‘What was that thing?’
‘Angel of Death – at least, an exceptionally clichéd manifestation of it.’
‘Angels? I have to believe in angels now?’
‘Just a name. Magic is all about personality and preconception. That trap was laid by a traditionalist – it was a pure dose of Dennis Wheatley.’