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now the rest of the party had arrived, improvingvisibility with their steady torches. A soldier took advantage of it and shotthe fugitive in the back. The target went down and skidded forward with strangegrace before coming to final rest. His gun did even better, skimming some extrayards along the floor.

‘Hehad pals,’ said the injured soldier, indicating with his good hand one of thecorpses by their feet. A boot turned it over. The deceased had fallen atop hismusket.

‘Certainlylooks human,’ said Wulfstan. ‘Looks Devon, come to that.’

Firstand foremost, Samuel reckoned he looked a mess, courtesy of the bullet in him,but otherwise the engineer's description was sound.

‘Doyou mean to say,’ said the Wizard at his most disdainful, observingtheir surprise, ‘that you thought this was just demi-demon stuff? Haven't youbeen waiting for their officer corps to come onstage?’

Plainlythey hadn't.

‘Saveus,’ they heard him mutter, ‘the people I have to work with....’

Therewas no time to frame a reply, for the Wizard was immediately obliged with freshcorroboration. Commotion signalled new arrivals who cared nothing fordiscretion. In a new development, these carried their own torches, shedding afitful, greenish, light.

‘Youfour,’ Samuel stabbed his finger at the designated men. ‘Reload. The rest: standuntil we see their numbers.’

Thenewcomers sounded numerous and angry. At the very edge of earshot Samuelthought he could hear human - and other - voices in conference.

‘Bequick about it,’ he added, needlessly. Those he'd instructed were fairly tearingat their impotent guns: even the injured man was lending what help he could.

Betweenthe two zones of light there was a patch of twilight spanning much of the'throne room'. The Wizard wandered off into it before anyone could stop him.He'd evidently seen something no one else could. His speaking loud and clearmade Samuel wince. Surely they'd just shoot him down like a dog?

‘MrBrannigan?’ called the Wizard. ‘Stop skulking. Come out and face me.’

Therewas no reply, although the screaming of the demi-demons increased in volume andpitch.

‘Brannigan!I'm talking to you, you pathetic bum-stroker! What's the problem? Are you a manor-....’

‘Thereis no call for abuse,’ replied a bulky figure, detaching itself from the dimlyseen throng, ‘however factual. In fact, I hunger and thirst to meet you....’

Thefigure strolled closer and they saw that his dress matched his voice anddemeanour. A Piccadilly dance-hall dandy, albeit more fleshy than the norm, wassomehow transported into the bowels of the earth. Ditto the tones of Londongenteel society.

Samuelfelt sorely tempted to blast them both but, fascinated, for the moment held hishand.

Thepair were within yards of each other now. The dandy exaggeratedly quizzed theWizard, not troubling to hide mounting disgust.

‘Idon't believe I’ve had the pleasure,’ he said. ‘Though such billows of meatsurely preclude much pleasure in any case. I wouldn't be surprised ifyou were as virginal as a-....’

TheWizard snapped up his right arm and formed a fist surrounded by cracklinglight. 'Brannigan' matched it and thus revealed a similar talent. The two handsapproached, their auras met and merged. Within seconds all amusement drainedfrom Brannigan's face.

‘Idon't...,’ he stuttered; reluctant but obliged to speak. ‘I don’t… understand.’

‘Youwouldn't,’ the Wizard crowed. ‘Mott smuggled me in from Rome. I'm his secretweapon - or one of them.’

Heseemed to exert additional force. Brannigan winced.

‘Good,aren't I?’ said the Wizard, perkiness personified. There was no reply.

Thelively light was now seeping back up Brannigan's arm. His carefully coiffuredhair was beginning to stand aloft, strand by oiled strand. Stitches from hisembroidered frockcoat were coming unpicked.

‘Stokehigh the fires of Hell!’ laughed the Wizard - and made a final effort: ahead-butt that stopped short of impact.

Holesmelted in his enemy's silken garments and red seeped from eyes and ears.Brannigan gave one small cry, a whimper of submission, and then fell backwardslike a toppled statue. Samuel could not decide if he was imagining the wisps ofsmoke.

TheWizard returned as though from a particularly scrumptious lunch.

‘Hedidn't merit his standing,’ he told Trevan. ‘Renegades are often over-rated, howeverinfamous. I suggest you shoot now: whilst they're still in shock. Andincidentally, I am not a virgin.’

Samuelpreferred not to think about that, but he did see that the opposition wereshaken - and more to the point, bunched and lit up.

‘Fire!’

Eightshots followed, in two volleys of four. The enemy ranks became gratifyinglygap-toothed. The Wizard joined in with a lobbed projectile of thought. Itlanded amidst them, producing screams. A single shot came back but did no harm.

TheWizard raised his hand to stem Trevan's likely questions - and laughed at theresulting cringe.

‘Don'tworry: you're safe from me. And you shall have your dull-dog explanation,albeit in haste. We knew of him, but not till today the where of him.The manner of his defection caused a certain scandal – but it and he are nowquelled. And yes, a magician's thoughts are like his calling card: detectableto his fellows from some distance. And no, he wasn't entirely without talent,considering. Satisfied?’

‘Ishe dead?’ asked Samuel.

‘Worse.I saw him glimpse the gates of Hell and heard his eternal howl commence. Onewas tempted to freeze him then, at the extremity of pain and fear, so that hemight know the state longer. I resisted: Christian charity and all that.’

‘Whatnow?’ Samuel was shocked to hear himself relinquish exclusive command, butcouldn't help it. 'Mundanes' were often undermined by their firstencounter with tooth-and-claw sorcery.

‘Now?Well, now-...,’ The Wizard's superior tone was drowned out by anall-pervading roar from nearby. That first keening was joined by a second andthen a third. It was pure savagery and hunger and Samuel had never heard thelike. The Wizard apparently had. His ruddy face turned ashen, his smile becameresigned.

‘Now?’he whispered, once the sounds abated. ‘Now we die….’

Trevantracked the direction of his gaze. A group of larger shapes had lumbered intothe far chamber: lumpen figures like two fat men melted together. They weresurrounded by a cloud of smaller forms, implausibly skinny, their stick-limbsclicking a brisk drumbeat against the stone floor. After them came a group ofhuman musketeers, though these now seemed an almost negligible problem. Aglimpse of orange reinforcements in the background merely restated the badnews.

Ignorancecould sometimes be an advantage in matters magical. It was now the Wizard'sturn to be at a loss, whereas Samuel merely saw more targets.

‘Reload,’he ordered.

‘No.’The Wizard's countermand was so soft yet

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