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for the force from the eye grewimpatient. Foremost speaker deferred to it instantly. The 'spider' withinSamuel sank intangible teeth.

Firsttitbit selected was the farewell to mother. Samuel lived again the news abouthis birth, then standing before her grave. It had been agony at the time andever since, but now, gingerly probing the spot, he felt nothing. Memory wasstill there, he could behold the scenes, but they were sucked dry of content.He was no longer involved.

Thatcould almost be construed as a blessing, but when the searing touch alightedfurther back he rebelled. The thing had found his first meeting with Melissa.She and Samuel - and it - stood in Church Twitten, in a variant replay of thatpivotal time. Samuel felt it exult at finding such juicy strength of feeling.

‘NO!’

Itproved (just) possible to contest the theft. Samuel defended exclusivepossession of that past moment. Repelled, the 'spider' drew back for a second -but then returned. It bit deeper and penetrated. Samuel's most preciouspossession started to drain away.

‘Please…!’

Pointless.Another instance where saved Samuel-breath would have been better.

Anew figure approached stage left. Trevan's watering eyes saw only the start oflong legs. Trousers of some gold-coloured hide grew ragged over cavalry boots.But any, any distraction was welcome.

‘Help!’said Samuel, hardly recognising his voice: let alone the sentiments. ‘Someonehelp me!’

Thereply was that of an intelligent machine; cleverly constructed but notsentient.

‘Possibly….’

‘Donot meddle!’ That was the prime speaker, anxious to rein in his fury, thoughnot entirely successful. ‘The salvation journey is begun!’

Hewas ignored. The legs stooped and brought a parchment-pale face almost toSamuel's level. He now looked into almond eyes of gold. Trevan loved those eyesbecause whilst he searched vainly therein for pupils the feeding suddenlyabated. He wanted more than anything to hold thata-bored-farmer-studies-a-sheep gaze.

Finally,the slim face arose and scented the air. It sought and found something.

‘Yourmother...,’ the Elf mused. ‘Oh, I see. If only....’

Trevanwas frantic; the conversation must be maintained.

‘What?’he gasped, pushing his face off the floor. ‘‘if only’ what?’

Theforemost speaker wanted to act but daren't. He and the other floating onesspluttered impotent anger.

‘Ifonly we had not met.’ There was real regret in the Elf's voice, a vehicle not accustomedto conveying feelings. ‘You are inimical.’

Thatseemed the literal truth. Whenever the Elf leant close to Trevan, a trickle ofgolden blood descended from his long nose. Also, he began to cough: a harshunhealthy bark.

‘No!’It was the foremost speaker's turn to protest now. ‘You cannot!’

‘Alas,I must.’

TheElf laid one hand on Samuel's shoulder. The guards' pressure, the ‘spider'stouch, went away. So too did the Elf's fingertips, blackened to a crisp wherethey touched Trevan.

Hesurmounted that great pain to speak.

‘Youwill come with me.’

Ittranspired that even there and then the bottom of the barrel wasn't reached.Samuel had sang-froid to spare and ever after he was proud of that.

‘Anyport in a storm,’ he replied.

Therewas an onrush of boots, outcry and even shots, but they each soon faded, nolonger of concern. Trevan and his new friend had put such worries to one side.

U[U[U[U[U[U[U

cHAPTER 37

They were still present,but… displaced - at one remove from the resulting chaos. Likewise, the exactsame scene was before Samuel's eyes, but now drained of colour and substance.He was no longer obliged to be involved. When a sabre traversed his midriff heflinched and cried out but came to no harm. The swordsman sought him in vain.

Amore effective Elven blade put Samuel’s bonds on the floor. Detached from him,they could then be seen and people rushed to the spot, slashing the air roundabout. Trevan weathered the futile blows and stepped away.

‘Youwill travel in our realm awhile,’ said the Elf. ‘Welcome to the real world.’

Reinforcementsarrived and formed an Elven circle about them as they passed, ghost-like,through the even greyer than hitherto congregation. Once, one of the floatingones somehow detected an Elf and laid stumps on him. Therefore a dagger wasdriven up into her palate and she died, albeit with obvious signs of gladness.Likewise, just before they left the 'cathedral', another sorcerer was broughtup. He was able - with clearly painful effort - to glimpse the escapees. One ofthe defensive perimeter expired in cold blue flame, to be left behind without asecond glance. Retribution or even taking notice appeared beneath elder-racedignity. A distant bell began to toll the alarm

Theyleft by a different route, through scenes of horror, holocaust and pentagrams,traversing both the anarchy of demi-demons' nests and strict order of humanbarracks. Trevan came to appreciate his folly in blithely challenging thisveritable town underground. Passages and tunnels travelled vast distances andto surprising places. Whole communities lived out pallid lives there. Whatpresumption to think he’d win through when the Pope's finest had not! Such awarren was a project for an army and Grand-Wizards, not a businessman.

Onthe other hand, visiting was much easier when blessed with a sure guide andinvisibility. As they went the Elf supplied what he called 'pre-emptiveexplanation'. Though Samuel's life might be worth saving it seemed that hisconversation was distasteful.

‘These'Bogomils' have stumbled upon something,’ Trevan was told, ‘and think it theirgod. We conduct occasional joint projects. Do kindly keep your distance.’

Samuelregulated his pace to put more room between them, since close proximity clearlycaused distress. He'd still not adjusted to wraith-like status and passing throughpeople.

‘Willthat suffice?’ asked the Elf, more in hope than expectation.

‘What?To explain?’ answered Trevan. ‘No, not really.’

‘Tsk.’

‘Imean, what do they want?’

TheElf pondered the most concise way of answering that. Samuel's overwhelmingrelief started to give way to vague offence.

‘Toquit their enemy's creation by the straightest path,’ came the reply, ‘short ofsuicide. Which is forbidden. Apparently. Meanwhile, they may freely abuse theflesh, theirs and others, just as they wish, free from so-called 'sin'. Pleaseexcuse me....’

Staunchinga golden flow of blood provided cover to curtail speech, and Samuel'sconscience prevented him from pressing the point. He noticed that the tricklefroze upon the Elf's sleeve. Plainly it was a frigid substance that circledtheir veins.

Accordingly,the rest of the ascent passed in silence, save for the muffled sounds ofineffectual pursuit and the fading toll of that sonorous bell. They emergedinto the light via a tunnel unknown to Trevan's painstaking surveys. He sawthat Welcombe was nearby and had to resist the temptation to crumple earthwardsand kiss the

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