The Cake Is Not A Lie
Marina takes Ashley down to reception and asks Luna to fetch them more appropriate clothing. Luna comes out with a bundle of white clothes.
“I’m pretty good at telling size,” she says, “but if anything doesn’t fit, let me know and I will find something else for you.”
“I’m sure these will be fine, thank you.”
With clothes in hand, Marina leads Ashley to the first row of terraced cottages. There are about three rows in this part of the estate, although there are more elsewhere, and each row has about twenty houses in it. Each ‘house’ is little more than a cell containing a bed, a desk, a storage chest, and a bare shelf. A small bathing area and toilet has been added to the rear of each cell; presumably, the richer members didn’t enjoy the concept of a shared bathroom. Either that or the cult doesn’t want to make people feel too uncomfortable. At least, not at first.
Thomson has been assigned number 11.
“Now, Ashley, you know we don’t allow any electronic devices on site. Anything you brought with you, I will take and lock away for safekeeping during your time here.”
“OK. I’ll just go and get changed first, so I can go through my pockets properly and make sure I haven’t missed anything.”
“Very well. I’ll wait here for you.”
Thomson goes into the tiny house and shuts the door. They quickly change and then scan the space for somewhere that might prove safe from snooping eyes. Under the storage chest, they see a suspicious floor tile. Lifting it, they find an old Sony Walkman cassette player containing Donna Summer’s I Feel Love – The Collection. The tape barely moves when they press play — it has been there a long time.
Thomson stashes everything they don’t want found, debating for a while whether to try concealing their gun under the yoga pants. The material is baggy, but it’s also fairly thin, so they decide to hide the weapon. The only thing they keep is the earpiece and a burner phone. Luna knows they had a phone, but it’s unlikely Marina is going to check whether the phone they give her is the one they showed Luna.
Ashley goes back outside and hands the burner over to Marina.
“Thank you,” Marina says. “Now, let’s go and find Topaz. I believe she has developed some exercises that should help you work through your blockages while being adapted to your intense sensitivity.”
“That would be great!” Ashley says with enthusiasm.
In the cave, Bea holds up her hands in a placating gesture. “Quartz,” she says. “Bert! Thank goodness we found you. What are you up to?”
“Who are you?” he demands, gun never wavering.
“I’m… Look, you don’t know me. C sent me. How much do you remember?”
“What do you want?”
Bea swears. “Great. Look. Do you remember C? Do you remember your name?”
“I’m Quartz. Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”
“C sent us. You were here to infiltrate the cult, but you went dark. So C sent us to bring you back. One of our team has managed to infiltrate the main compound, and we came here to see what was what.”
“Are you spies?” He seems agitated. “Spies and traitors!” he yells, taking a step forward. “We have enough spies and traitors! Get out! Get out!”
“Okay. Okay. I’m going.” Bea turns to leave and allows herself to stumble. She grabs a rock from the cave floor and then whips round and hurls it at Quartz’s head.
He leans slightly to one side, and it whistles past his skull, parting his hair. His eyes narrow. He aims the gun between Bea’s feet and fires. The shot reverberates around the vast echo chamber, the loudest thing Bea has ever heard in her life. It feels like it has ruptured her eardrums. The bullet kicks up dirt, turning the air gritty.
“Try anything like that again,” Quartz says, although Bea can barely hear him over the ringing in her ears, “and next time I will not miss.”
He gestures with the gun to indicate she should precede him.
“All right. All right! I’m going!”
She makes her way back to the cave entrance, still trying to convince Quartz she’s on his side.
Maya and John hear the gunshot from where they are sitting outside at the picnic table. It is so loud, at first they wonder if there has been a cave collapse, or Bea has set something off down in the depths of the cave. They move cautiously towards the cave entrance, and before too long see Bea edging her way out, talking to someone over her shoulder.
“It’s all right, QUARTZ,” she says loudly, so Maya and John can hear. “I’m leaving. You don’t need to HOLD THAT GUN ON ME any more.”
Quartz waits until she has stepped through the gate, then closes the gap. “You’re right,” he says. “I don’t.”
He heaves the gate shut with a clang and locks it, pocketing the key, before retreating far enough into the cave that they can no longer see him.
“DAMMIT!” Bea exclaims. She peers through the gate. Is that the dull glint of a gun she can see just as the light fades completely? Maybe.
“What was that? What happened?” John asks.
“That was Bert. He’s completely forgotten who he is!”
“What happened down there? You said something about a gate to hell and then told me to leave,” Maya says.
“Well, I have a magical armour, and I could protect myself from the effects of the magic down there, but I couldn’t protect you. I got way down deep into the cave and there was this orb hovering over the water. The weird thing about it was that it looked like a piece of technology, not something magical. Even with my armour, I physically couldn’t get close to it. Lost my damn bolas trying to knock it off its perch. I could only stay down a couple of minutes. Then, on the way back, Bert attacked me.”
“That gun didn’t look too good,” John says.
“Well. To be fair, that was my fault. He wasn’t listening to me, so I threw a rock at his head.”
“Wait. You brought a rock to a gun fight?”
Bea rolls her eyes at him. “What I want to know is, how is he surviving that? He seemed completely unaffected.”
“Maybe that’s why he can’t remember who he is,” Maya suggests. “Maybe that’s the effect it has on him.”
“It didn’t have that effect on you, though, did it? What did it feel like to you?”
“I don’t know about you two,” John says, “but it felt to me like my bones were turning inside out.”
“Same here,” Maya agrees.
“I didn’t get as deep as you, but it got me all turned around. Just as well you did send Maya out,” John says. “I was stuck in there until she grabbed me and brought me out, but I didn’t forget who I was, just where I was.”
“I just don’t think that it was what caused him to forget. He just seems to have gone really deep into his role. I don’t understand how he can be down there,” Bea says.
“Maybe the Orb has chosen him as its guardian or something,” Maya says.
Bea looks dubious, but it’s as good an explanation as any.
“So what do we do now?” John says.
“We should probably report to C,” Maya replies. “Then we can think about where we go from here. There’s no point trying to get back into the Cult. Oh, and we got the report back from Dakota on the amulet. He says the picture was of a page from a book. Some of the text is Enochian, which is the language used by angels, and the symbols are something that could be used for summoning an Elder God. It’s really old, and the god hasn’t been summoned in a very long time.”
“Oh. Right. Not good,” Bea says.
“I’ll do the honours then, shall I?” John says reluctantly.
Covenant issue phones have encrypted calls and C’s office on speed dial. It rings for a few moments and then C’s PA, Jane Darling (codename IGRAINE), answers.
“Hello John,” she begins, “do you—”
But John is already giving her a run-down of what they’ve found so far. Darling waits for him to finish, then says, “Do you want to speak to C?”
“Do I have to?”
“No, John, you don’t have to. I can’t force you to. I do not have a gun to your head. Bullets do not travel down the tiny holes in a microphone to emerge from the not-so tiny holes in a speaker.”
“I suppose I’d better,” John says, as if he doesn’t quite believe her.
“I will see if she’s available.”
Darling puts him on hold, and John turns on the speakerphone so they can all listen to the acapella yodelling Darling currently has set to torment people.
“John,” C says. “You have something for me?”
John is obliged to repeat it all again.
“Going native is always a risk with Gawain. I’ll have a word with his…” she pauses, as if looking for the right term, or a term that will do for the present company “…counsellor. And have you heard from Thomson? Is the only contact you’ve had from them when Maya dropped off the communicator?”
“Pretty much,” Maya says, “although they sent us a photo of a book they found. I sent it to Dakota and he says—”
“Yes, he sent me a copy for the file. I have read his findings. Well, keep up the good work. Let me know if you make any further progress. I’ll be in touch about how to handle Gawain.”
She hangs up, and John looks at his phone in disgust. “Fat lot of help that was, ” he says.
They head back down to the car. Maya rummages around and finds a GPS unit as well as several maps of the area — including what appears to be a simplified map of the caves. The writing on it is old French, faded copperplate and careful block lettering. The hotel entrance is at the west end, and the cult’s compound nestles in the middle of the almost-horseshoe shape formed by the two main arcs of the system. Another branch heads off to the north-east, and there are some side branches and additional complexes to the south. Where they have just been is part of the south-east branch.
“We could try getting back in through the hotel,” Bea says. “Or look for another entrance. See? That could be one there.” She indicates a mark up in the north-east branch.
“Sounds like a plan,” Maya agrees.
They lay the cave plan out and compare it to the other maps, trying to find a route that will get them to what they think is another entrance. It’s on the other side of the mountain ridge. They’ll have to find a way round.
“Maybe we should just go back to the hotel,” Bea says. “Do you think Merlin has put a portable canoe in here somewhere?”
“Not sure I’d want to use a portable canoe that Merlin had built even if he has,” John mutters.
“Look. Why don’t we go and get something to eat while we think about it?” Maya says. “I’m starving.”
“You’re always peckish!” John replies, eliciting groans from everyone else. “Let’s go then.”
Back at the compound, Marina takes Ashley to meet Topaz. Topaz leads Ashley on what turns out to be quite a long walk across the estate and through the trees to the edge of the mountain. They avoid the main entrance to the cave system and go to a smaller cavern further along the cliff. It goes back about 10m into the rock, and is a rough, irregular teardrop in shape, the space overhead narrowing into a crack that disappears into the mountain, just as the rear of the cave pinches into darkness. The floor of the cave has been covered in a thick layer of pristine white sand, and crystals and windchimes hang from irregularities in the cave walls. Candles have been stuck everywhere there is space to stick them, and the flickering light reflects from and refracts through the gently swaying crystals, covering the white sand in dancing colours.
Topaz sits Ashley down and takes them through a couple of hours or so of various exercises involving lots of different breathing patterns, visualisation, and self-awareness exercises. To Ashley, it feels both as if hardly any time has passed and it is years later when Topaz finishes with a final relaxation exercise.
“Before we go, has Marina spoken to you about the Great Eel at all?” Topaz asks. She speaks easily, but Ashley can tell there is some hesitation here, a slight nervousness or wariness, as if she is taking a risk in asking this question.
“No, not really. Why?”
“It’s just that, well, some people can become confused about what we are trying to achieve here. They can let their own gifts, their talents, blind them to the reality and lose their groundedness.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
Topaz stands and brushes sand from herself, then starts pinching out the candles, each one darkening with the slight hiss of dampened fingers and a smell of carbonised wick. “You are very new here,” she says. “It’s just that, with you being so sensitive, I was concerned that Marina might try to accelerate your path into one of the more advanced groups. It’s good to keep somethings in mind, to stay grounded, even if we are granted extraordinary gifts.”
Ashley can’t tell for sure whether Topaz is referring to them or not but is inclined to think she’s talking about Marina.
“What sort of things? It would be good to know, so I can make sure not to stumble from the right way.”
“Let’s just say that it’s important to remember that this is all metaphorical. Some of us might be tempted, might even have succumbed to the temptation to consider it real. But the Great Eel is not real in the sense that you or I are real, Ashley. The exercises we do here, the work we do, is about personal empowerment, not literally summoning an actual giant eel. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes I do,” Ashley says, relieved. “Thank you for that excellent advice. I will remember that the work is metaphorical and stay grounded.”
“Good.” Topaz finishes snuffing out the candles. It’s dark outside, the moon glimmering shyly through the leaf canopy .
“If it’s all right, I would like to walk back by myself,” Ashley says. “Take the long way round, to give myself a chance to process.”
“Of course. Stay away from the entrance to the main cave system, though. It’s very, very easy to become lost.”
“I will.”
Topaz sets off towards the residential area with a purposeful stride.
Thomson leaves the cave and follows at a slower pace and on a slightly less direct path.
“Can you hear me?” they say, assuming that anyone noticing them talking will think they are talking to their spirit guide.
After a while, Maya responds, her voice weirdly distant but close at the same time. “Hey Thomson! How are you?”
“I’m good. Just walking back to my room. Thought I’d better check in. By the way, you’re my spirit animal now.”
“Your what?”
“Spirit animal. I had to come up with a reason for you visiting me as a seagull, and they bought it.”
“Cool.”
“I’m hoping there’ll be something better for dinner than the leaves and berries we had for lunch. I’d better go.”
“Okay. Keep in touch!”
As Thomson arrives back at the accommodation, the man who spoke to them at lunch approaches.
“Hey. Remember you said you’d let me use your phone,” he says.
Thomson’s phone is hidden in the floor of their room. Feeling like it would be unwise to lie and say they’d handed it over to Blavatsky, they say, “Are you sure that’s what you want? You’ve already been here for two weeks. You’ve made so much progress in that time. Do you really want to undo it all now? And for what?”
The man looks taken aback. “I mean. I suppose… When you get down to it, the internet is a dumpster fire of hissing scorpions. I’m only here for another two weeks and… I have to confess, I haven’t really missed facebook. Certainly not twitter. I just wanted to look at kitten photos. But once I get out of here, I could get an actual kitten instead.”
“You absolutely can do that. Then, instead of looking at vacuous photographs that are little more than clickbait to trip a dopamine signal in your brain, you can form a meaningful relationship with another living being and bring light and joy into the world.”
“You are so right. Thanks. Thank you!”
He walks away, dazed, looking like someone who has had an epiphany.
Later, with no dinner in sight, Thomson decides to go for a walk to stave off the hunger pangs. It’s approaching 11pm, and everyone else is in bed. They fetch their gun out from its hiding place, then debate whether to put their own clothes on. It would probably be less suspicious if they were found and were wearing their cult clothes., though, so stick with obvious white.
Out into the cool night they go, following a vague instinct and trying to avoid any smelly man camps.
As they set off in search of some food, John’s phone rings. The caller ID says MERLIN.
“Oh gods,” John says. “What the hell does he want?” He thumbs the call accept button. “Hi Merlin.”
“John! Team!” Merlin bellows. “I understand you’re having trouble with Gawain. Not at all unusual, this is why we put a tracker on him, of course.”
“Right.”
“What you need to do is say the following: Looking at the cake is like looking at the future. Until you’ve tasted it, what do you really know? And then, of course, it’s too late. Then give him some cake. Ha ha ha ha ha.”
“Excuse me?”
“Looking at the cake is like looking at the future. Until you’ve tasted it, what do you really know? And then, of course, it’s too late. Ha ha ha ha ha. Then cake.” There is a pause. “Oh, you don’t have to laugh, that’s not part of it. I amuse myself, that’s all. Doesn’t matter what cake. Any cake will do.” Another pause. “Best if you can get him to eat it, though. Right? Great stuff!”
There is a long beep and he hangs up.
“I guess we’d better find a patisserie,” Maya says.
“I don’t think even French bakeries are open this late.”
“Well, a supermarket then. He said it didn’t matter what kind of cake. We can just pick up some chocolate buns or something.”
They drive into town and find a supermarket. They are about to go in to find some food and some cake when a voice hisses from somewhere in the back of the car.
“Hey guys!” They sound like they’re trying not to make too much noise.
Maya rummages through the road trip detritus, piles of maps, and scattered kit for the comms box.
“Are you there? Can you hear me? I can’t be too loud in case someone hears me.”
“Hey Thomson!” Maya says, finding the box and thumbing the switch. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m good. This place is amazing, but I think the dude with the amulet is trying to take over and do something bad. Although they don’t seem to serve dinner. I’m starving. Thought I’d go for a walk.”
“Fancy some company?” Maya asks.
“Yeah. That would be good, actually.”
“We’re heading to a supermarket to get food. We need to take cake to Gawain.”
There’s a long pause before Thomson’s voice sounds, slightly treble-heavy through the speaker and clearly confused. “Right?”
“I’ll tell you later. I can bring you something if you like?”
“That would be great.”
John is already inside, and Maya can just about hear him through the open door, yelling, “Excusez moi! Je cherchez le gateau!”
“Get some roulade!” Maya calls to him, before saying to Thomson, “OK. Don’t walk too fast.”
Maya heads inside, where John and Bea are choosing cakes. They grab a selection of pastries and savoury snacks then head back to the car.
“Will you be able to find the cave entrance?” Bea asks.
“It’s a long way to fly to the new entry point,” Maya says, putting a couple of cupcakes into a small plastic bag.
“No, we’re going to the last one, to find Bert,” Bea says.
“Are we?” John is surprised.
“We might as well.”
“Oh, sure. I can find that okay,” Maya assures them.
“Right. So you’ll go see Thomson and we’ll go get Bert.” Bea repeats the plan, as if needing the confirmation that they all have the same one in mind.
“Yes,” Maya agrees. “I just need a plastic bag or something to take some food to Thomson.”
John digs around for a small bag while Maya gets changed. He puts a couple of cakes and un demi jambon-beurre into a bag and Maya grabs the handles in her beak. She flies once round the car to test the weight and balance, then heads off towards the Estate.
Avoiding the rookery, even though corvids are better sleepers than seagulls and are unlikely to be up and about, Maya soars low over the trees, looking for a solitary figure wandering through the trees. Soon enough, Thomson’s ghostly white clothes glimmer through the darkness near the tree where Maya had found them earlier.
“Oh, you’re a life saver,” Thomson says as Maya lands and drops the bag at their feet. They cram bread and cake into their face. “Mmm. Oh yeah, this is good.”
Maya transforms herself back into a human. “So, how’s it going?”
“It’s going great!” Thomson says. “The woman who runs this place, Marina, she’s amazing. She is super cool. And all she really wants is for people to be their own empowered selves, you know? I feel like I could learn so much here. But there’s this dude with the amulet, and I’m almost completely sure he’s up to something, although he hasn’t done anything actually to me, you know? He could have said something about me finding the book, but he didn’t, and I actually find that really suspicious. And there’s Topaz, who is also really cool. She was giving me some one-to-one training earlier, and she told me I had to beware not to fall into the belief that what’s happening here is real. She said that it’s important to remember that what we’re doing is metaphorical, and it’s about personal growth. She said there are some people here who believe they are really summoning something, and I think that might be what the man with the amulet is trying to do. I think he’s trying to use people here, people Marina has trained to use their power, and he wants to summon something. Something bad.”
“You think that this Blavatsky woman is okay?”
“Yeah! She is really trying to look after me. ”
“Are you sure you’re all right, Thomson? This doesn’t sound like you. This is a whole other side to you I’ve never seen, all this meditation and stuff.”
Maya doesn’t try very hard to conceal her scepticism, but Thomson is oblivious.
Thomson waves a dismissive hand. “Oh sure. My parents were into all of this stuff. I basically grew up on a commune. It’s kind of nice to revisit it.”
Maya tells Thomson what Dakota said about the book page Thomson photographed.
“That kind of supports my thoughts about what’s going on here,” Thomson says thoughtfully. “Maybe the amulet dude is trying to summon the Elder God.”
“Oh, and we found Gawain. He’s gone deep undercover and nearly shot Bea.”
“Oh wow.”
“Yeah. Merlin gave us a code phrase to use to try to snap him out of it, which is why we were buying cake.”
“Cake.”
“Yes. It’s part of the technique for trying to get him to remember himself.”
Thomson bites into a blueberry muffin. “Sounds like a very specific post-hypnotic suggestion. You know, so no one could accidentally force him out of deep cover by saying something like ‘heliotrope’ at just the wrong moment.”
“Could be.”
They carry on walking, following a path that leads — eventually — to the main part of the estate, where the big house and the accommodation blocks are, but which currently runs parallel to the rocky foot of the mountains.
Thomson becomes aware of a pull, as if they were a compass needle held close to iron. As soon as they pay attention to it, it becomes stronger, more alluring, less resistable. It feels important.
“Sorry, Maya, I have to…” They don’t know how to explain this. “I feel like I have to go over in this direction. There’s a strong draw. I don’t know how to describe it, but I have to go.”
” I’m coming with you.” Maya transforms herself back into a seagull.
“Fine,” Thomson says. “Maybe just walk or something, though? Having a companion animal is one thing, but I think they might suspect something if you start living on my shoulder like a pet parrot.”
They begin walking in the direction their internal compass is pointing, and Maya takes to the air to follow.
John hefts his baseball bat. It’s their only weapon. They wander up the path to the gate to where they last saw Quartz, and Bea sets at the lock with the picks.
“DAMMIT!” she exclaims, as the pick breaks in half, the pieces falling on the ground. Unseen, sparkles drift in the darkness of the cave, some of them even passing through the bars of the gate. “Now what?”
“I could have it with my baseball bat?” John suggests dubiously.
“I don’t see what other choice we have,” Bea says with annoyance.
He takes a few steps back, then attacks the gate. A the bat swings, the enchantment kicks in. It accelerate, smashing into the hinges, and smacking the gate back against the wall of the cave so hard it bends with a loud CLANG and a screech of tortured metal. Sparkles swirl in its wake, and John finds he can’t pull it free and, suddenly, his watch slides off his wrist to stick to the bat. All of Bea’s pocket change shakes free from her jacket and flies to stick on the bat, even though it’s non-ferrous. John finds himself being dragged towards the bat by his belt buckle. All metal is affected. The gate groans and creaks as it tries to fold itself around the bat.
“Shit!” he yells. “Bloody Merlin!”
“What’s happening?” Bea exclaims.
“It’s the bloody base bloody ball bloody bat!” John says, fumbling with his phone and trying to hit speed dial without losing it to the intense magnetic attraction.
Merlin picks up almost at once. “What what?” he booms.
“Your bloody baseball bat has turned super magnetic! What do we do?” John yells.
“Oh. Sorry about that. Thought we’d ironed that one out.” He audibly strokes his beard, then catches his own unintended pun. “HA HA HA HA HA. Ahem. Use a minor cantrip to de-enchant it. That should solve the magnetism problem, although it will lose the enhanced qualities as well, of course. You should get them back in an hour. Probably. Cheerio!”
“Bloody Merlin! Bea. Can you do an enchant weapon on this thing and, I dunno, unenchant it instead?” John asks, desperately sliding across the ground, pulled by belt buckle and phone.
Bea mutters a cantrip as another coin works free from her pocket and flies to the baseball bat. That last coin takes just enough pressure off John for him to hold his ground until the cantrip is done and the baseball falls in a dead weight to the ground.
He picks it up. It no longer feels light and lively in his grip. It’s the weight of a medium sized sledgehammer, and he can feel every gram of it.
From the depths of the cave comes the sound of footsteps. More than one, by the rhythm, although that might be the echoes braiding around one another in the cave’s complexity.
“Uh-oh,” John says.
Bea motions for him to go on the other side of the cave entrance, where he won’t be seen. He hefts his deadweight baseball bat, regretting having brought it. She stands on the other side of the cave entrance, cradling cake. John mugs a SERIOUSLY?? expression and Bea shrugs. Her bolas is gone. What else is she supposed to do?
As the footsteps grow closer, they sound heavier, louder. It’s not a person, it’s a giant.
John tightens his grip on his baseball bat.
After what feels like a lifetime of waiting, an enormous figure emerges from the cave. It spots Bea.
“YOU!” it roars. “YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!”
“Wait…” Bea says, holding up one hand. “What?”
This is Twin 2, whom Bea afflicted with a bad case of wet shitty trousers before the team unceremoniously barbecued his brother. And he’s not stopping.
John whips round in a crouched swing at Twin 2’s ankles. The giant is moving fast, attention entirely on Bea, and doesn’t see him. He falls fast and hard, sprawling in the dirt until a collision between his head and a particularly sharp rock brings him to a stop with a meaty, sickening thud.
“Oh,” John says. “That’s… Not really had I had in mind.”
“Oh well,” Bea says. “It was him or us.”
“You.” They both turn at the sound of another voice. It’s Quartz, and he’s looking at them both with unconcealed contempt, his gun a slick black source of death and pain.
Bea holds out the cake. It’s a Black Forest Gateau. She has cut a slice.
“Looking at the cake is like looking at the future. Until you’ve tasted it, what do you really know? And then, of course, it’s too late.” She proffers the plate. “Go on, have a bite.”
Quartz’s gun wavers, the muzzle drifting to point towards the ground. His expression becomes conflicted, confused.
“What… What did you say?”
“Looking at the cake is like looking at the future,” John repeats, slowly and carefully. “Until you’ve tasted it, what do you really know? And then, of course, it’s too late.”
Bea breaks off a piece of the cake and practically forces it into the Section 7 agent’s mouth.
“Who are you?” He swallows part of it, but spits out most, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and eyeing it suspiciously, as if he’s expecting poison.
“More to the point, who are you?” Bea asks.
“I have no reason to tell you.” His eyes are sharp now, suspicious rather than paranoid.
“Are you Bert?”
“That depends on who is asking.”
Bea starts to get exasperated, but John says, “Is your name Bertram St Joh Cholmondleigh Featherstone-Hawe?”
Gawain relaxes a little, his stance going from say one thing wrong and I will kill you to this is a dangerous situation, but you are not my enemy. “You’ve read my personnel file. What are you doing here?”
“You went dark, man,” John tells him. “We were sent to find out what had happened to you.”
“Just you?”
“No, there are another two of us in the team. One of them has infiltrated the cult.”
“Infiltrated… Are you mad? Does this hunter have any magic powers? Are they powerful in the occult?”
“Not that we know,” John says with a shrug.
“Listen to me. Tell C that Sebastien Strunk is back. We didn’t take him down last time as we thought. Tell her. She will know what I mean. He is subverting the cult to gather enough power to summon his abomination of a god Yigg. If he succeeds, it’s the end of everything. The human race is finished. I’ve been stopping him getting close to the Orb, because without it he can’t enact his plan, but he needs to be stopped. Permanently.”
“The Orb!” Bea exclaims. “How are you able to be close to it?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well, maybe,” Bea says, angry now. “We’ve got a job to do here too , you know.”
“I…” He breaks off, uncertain again. “I don’t know. Something that Marina did. I can’t explain it. Something to do with blood, perhaps…” He stars at the ground for a moment. “You said there were two others. Where is the other one?”
“She’s flying in to check on our undercover hunter,” Bea says.
“Flying? Is Merlin supplying microlights to hunter teams these days?”
“Not exactly.”
“Explain.” He almost barks this order, and Bea finds herself explaining almost without deciding to.
“She can transform herself into a seagull. She’s flying in as a seagull.”
Gawain’s expression turns dismayed, then hardens. “You fools! You are sending someone who is capable of that kind of magic in there and you think they won’t be able to tell? They will take her and use her to fuel their plans. Why the hell is C using such barely competent hunters?”
“Harsh,” mutters John.
“You need to get them out. Both of them. There’s no time to waste. Get in touch with C and give her my message, but get your teammates out!”
He turns and starts heading back into the cave.
“Wait. What are you going to do?” Bea asks.
“I have to make sure Strunk doesn’t get near the Orb. Right now, there’s nothing more important than that.”
“What if you lose yourself to your cover? Again?”
“That’s a risk I’ll just have to take. But for future reference, I can’t stand chocolate.”
He returns to the cave and forces the gate shut again.
Ashley’s sixth sense leads Thomson and Maya to the main entrance to the cave complex. Ashley goes inside, drawn by the potent signal. Maya hangs back until she can no longer see Thomson, then heads into the cave.
Ashley sees the cave filled with a blue light. It is intense, the colour of the third-eye chakra, Ajna, the chakra of intuition and imagination. It fills them with excitement, a desire to belong, to participate. They hear chanting, a glorious, endless sound ; numerous voices with one aim, one goal, their combined effort washing through the cavern with no pause for breath.
As they move deeper into the cave, the feeling grows, this desire to belong, and they begin to see wisps of light flitting through the blue, like swallows made of mist.
Maya jumps up in front of Thomson, flapping and squawking, trying to turn them back. She can see the blue light, and hears some deep chanting noises, but that’s it.
“Get off!” Ashley says. “I need to see.”
Maya keeps flapping, and the ghostly swallows grow in number as the chanting grows louder and the blue becomes more intense, almost to the point of tingling on their skin. Sparkles form in dancing clouds like mayflies.
Maya stops, unwilling to progress any further, sure that Thomson wouldn’t go on alone.
Just as they are about to turn a corner that would put Maya out of sight, Thomson kicks a corner of Ashley’s mind into paying attention and they decide to turn back. Maya can’t wait to get out of there and goes on ahead. Thomson follows, wondering if this is the right thing to do.
As they exit the cave, a jeep pulls up. A woman clambers out. She is tall, blonde, dressed to enhance her naturally generous curves, and has a smirk on her carefully-painted lips. Knives glint at her belt, and she carries herself with the ease of someone trained in martial arts.
“Hello, pretty pretty,” she says huskily. “What are you doing here?”
Ashley swallows. They are not supposed to be here. “Well, I was walking back to my accommodation when I experienced the profound feeling that I should be here,” they say.
“Really?” The woman arches one eyebrow. “Well I think you should be here, too.”
“Why? What’s happening in there?”
“It’s the big Interface practise before the main event, darling.”
She smiles the kind of smile that could bring susceptible persons to their knees. and then walks into the cave.
Ashley realises that this woman means them no harm. Her one and only priority in life is looking after… Sebastien. She might be prone to jealousy, but only if she believes someone is intruding on her space, and her space is Sebastien, whoever that is. The man with the amulet. She is his bodyguard, lover. Paramour.
And she’s going inside to keep him safe while he makes sure he has the people he needs primed to help him summon Yigg.
And now Ashley wants to go back inside, whether Maya agrees or not.
Through the door, they found stairs leading to an attic, where they found what appeared to be a dozen crow heads braided together on a fleshy stalk. The heads spoke in a language none of them could understand. Hartley was using a crystal lens to focus energy onto humself from a huge, shimmering orb. Without waiting to see anymore, Nigel shot the orb. Hartley withered before their eyes, and the orb began to give off a painful, high-pitched whine.
But so did something else. A deep, throaty bark shattered the eerie stillness. Then another. Both Hyacinth and Elres could feel the burgeoning fear as the Cù-Sìth approached. Elres drew her flaming sword, seeing red eyes, twin points of flame in the twilight. She called again for Hyacinth, knowing that if she ventured so far into the Betwixt she lost sight of the portal back to Earth, neither of them would make it back.
