As she agonised she caught sight of a faint blue glow above her that ignited a desperate hope. Holding the Spear before her, she took the steps two at a time. Her heart beat faster as she almost stumbled across the remains of several Fomorii, and then she rounded a corner into an intense blue light.
Church and the Bone Inspector were climbing ahead of her. She was shocked to see the illumination was streaming from what appeared to be a severed head, hanging by its hair from the same hand in which Church held the Wayfinder.
When he saw her his face broke into such an open expression of relief she had to run over and throw her arms around him. He held the head and Wayfinder away, although she didn't sense any danger from them. "Where's Ryan?" he asked.
"I don't know. Don't know if he's alive or dead."
"He'll get here if it's humanly possible," Church said confidently.
"Tom?"
Church's expression told her all she needed to know. Her spirit sagged. "I thought he'd go on forever."
"This isn't the place to stand around talking," the Bone Inspector said curtly.
They began to move cautiously back up the stairs. Occasionally one of the Fomorii would wander out of an adjoining room, only to be dispatched in an instant by Caledfwlch or by a flash of searing energy from the head.
"I presume you know where you're going," Ruth whispered.
"No. But if you stop and let yourself feel, you'll know you're going in the right direction."
As he spoke she realised she could sense a palpable pressure in the air that was slowly squeezing the life out of her chest; and it was getting stronger the more they climbed. A corresponding feeling of dread was eating away at the edges of her mind; all she could think of was the hideous thing she had seen during her spirit flight from Wave Sweeper. "What are we going to find?" Her voice suggested she hoped for some comfort, although she knew there would be none.
"I always expected it to be something like Calatin or Mollecht, only bigger. But I don't think it's going to be anything like that at all."
"Worse?"
"What do you think?"
"Hasn't Frank got a song for an occasion like this?"
"Yes, `Get Happy.' As the lyric goes, Get ready for the judgment day."
"Thanks. That's dismal."
"No, no, it's positive. Really. We're going to the Promised Land."
There was something so naive about him, even in the face of such terrible surroundings, Ruth felt a surge of love. "We'll get out of this," she said gently.
Her words were lost as a shadow crossed Church's face. "Did you hear that?"
She hadn't heard anything.
Church was suddenly consumed with anxiety. He dashed up a few steps and threw open a door on the outside of the tower. It was empty apart from piles of burning rubbish before irregular windows looking out over the Thames. Flying Fomorii were zipping around without, diving down on something that was below their range of vision. A tremendous shock rocked the entire tower. Liquid flame gushed past the window.
Church tried a door on the inner wall of the stairway. It was locked. "I've got to look in here," he said anxiously.
"We haven't got time," the Bone Inspector replied harshly. He was contin ually peering up and down the stairs for any sign of attack. "It's already morning. The gates will be opening in a few hours."
"There's time for this." Church tried to force the door.
"I told you not to be so stupid. The hour's almost here!" The Bone Inspector made to drag Church away, but Church knocked his blackened hand off. They squared up to each other.
"This isn't helping," Ruth pleaded. "Why is this room so important?"
Raw emotion flickered across his face. "Marianne's in there. I heard her."
Ruth stepped in before the Bone Inspector could began a rant. "You have to let him do it," she begged. "There'll still be time."
After a moment, the Bone Inspector relented. Overcome with apprehension, Church stepped back and levelled the Sword at the lock. It burst with a resounding crack and the door swung open.
The room was not like any they had seen before. It was spacious, about fifty feet square, with smooth walls lined with black stone. A single torch burned on the far side. The flagged floor had been marked out with an intricate pattern of lines and geometric shapes, along with bizarre symbols that suggested an alien language. The effect of the relationship of the various elements was so intensely disturbing it made Church's head spin. A large block of black stone stood in the centre of the design, and on it was a stoppered green-glass bottle.
"Be careful." The Bone Inspector held out a hand to stop Church stepping over the threshold. "Don't go blundering in."
Church scanned the room one more time. "Can't see anything that might be a problem. What makes you worried?"
"Instinct."
Church fixed his eyes on the bottle. "That's it. That's where she is." He set down the head and the Wayfinder, but held on to the Sword. "I'm going to have to chance it."
"Bloody stupid. All this at stake and you're taking risks," the Bone Inspector muttered.
"It's an obligation to someone I loved. Don't you understand that?"
There was a long pause before the Bone Inspector replied quietly, "Maybe." Then: "Get a bloody move on! Time's running out!"
In the room the temperature was inexplicably below freezing. Church's breath clouded, his body protesting with shivers after the intense heat. Church let his foot hover over the design, but couldn't think of any other way to reach the bottle. Slowly he brought it down.
"You okay?" Ruth called out.
"Fine. No problem." He took another step.
"Just keep that big head and big mouth in check," the Bone Inspector growled. "And stop dawdling."
As Church took the third step, he felt a strange tingling sensation in his extremities. Ruth noticed his surprised reaction. "What is it?"
"Nothing. Just the cold. It's like the Arctic in here."
With the next step, he lost the feeling in his fingers and toes. He shook them for warmth and was surprised to see them glisten in the torchlight.
"Tread… careful-" The Bone Inspector's voice was oddly distorted before disappearing completely. Church was too fixated on the bottle to be concerned about it. All he could think about was Marianne and everything she'd suffered because of his unwitting involvement in the events now being played out. He had made her a promise to free her spirit and he would not fail; his own redemption was tied up in his success.
The words of warning and encouragement from Ruth and the Bone Inspector had ended; they must have realised he was doing okay.
Several more steps passed unnoticed, so much did the bottle fill his mind. Memories of Marianne and the time they had spent together traipsed across his head until the black stone chamber almost faded from his perception. He was there with her, happy, as they always had been.
It was only when he realised he was having trouble moving forward that he jolted back to reality. What he found was so shocking it took him a few seconds to assimilate. His arms and the parts of his body he could see were strangely white. His dulled thought processes eventually told him the truth: he was covered in rime frost. It sparkled across his limbs, so thick his joints would barely work against it. Even his eyelashes were heavy with the weight of it, shimmering so that he found it hard to see past the glare.
If he had not had the Blue Fire coursing through him, he would most certainly have been dead; even now he was close to it. If he turned back there was still a chance he might actually survive. Yet the bottle was only a couple of paces away. How could he leave when he was so close? He couldn't abandon Marianne.
In his mind, there was no choice. He forced another step. Almost there. He couldn't feel any of his body now; his mind was disembodied, recalling a dream of being trapped in a person. Oddly, that helped him. With no physical sensations to distract him, his thoughts were pure and strengthened. He slipped easily into the perception where he was aware of the Blue Fire, and was surprised to see that even in that awful place the spirit energy still flowed, though much weaker.