

Walking the Cusp

Peter Barns

Published by Boddaert Books at Smashwords

Copyright 2017 Peter Barns

Smashwords Edition, License Notes.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re–sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events portrayed are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Walking the Cusp

### Chapter 1

The dead have no control over, nor fear of, expensive meals, flashy clothes, or Jacuzzis. All they want is to slip quietly on to the next dimension, leaving such ostentatious and earthly possessions behind. The things they do fear – and have no control over – are the 'entanglements' that sometimes hold them stuck between the 'Here' and the 'There'.

Most dead people manage the transposition between this dimension and the next with no trouble at all. Others are destined to hang around earthbound for an inordinate amount of time, trying to figure out the reasons for their 'stickiness'.

One such person was Brodie 'The Cosh' Webster, whose 'entanglement' was a pendant he had bought for his mother years before with his first pay packet.

Webster had been a successful drug's baron – at least that's what he thought when he was alive. Dead, he wasn't very successful at anything; except perhaps, scaring the hell out of his young and attractive widow whenever he turned up to check on what she was doing – which was often because Webster was nothing if not the jealous type.

Webster paced up and down the living room of his large mansion, dismayed that now he was a ghost he couldn't kick the cat anymore. Kicking the cat had been the only thing that lowered his level of frustration. Now the bloody thing just sat there, staring up at him with its malevolent slitty–yellow eyes, mocking him. He tried kicking it again on his next pass, swearing when his foot passed right through the animal with no result. The cat gave a self-satisfied smirk and continued licking its butt.

Webster was not a nice man, nor a patient one. Not only was he impatient but didn't trust his wife, who just now was sunning herself in the garden allowing every peeping-tom in the district catch a view of the monumental mammary glands he'd paid for with his hard-earned cash.

Bloody woman had no shame at all. She could at least wear her bikini top!

Turning away from the lounge window, Webster felt the familiar itch in the palm of his right hand. He had loved nothing more than curling his fingers around the leather-covered, wooden baton. It was his weapon of choice and the one that had led to his nickname, Brodie The Cosh Webster.

Webster was proud of his nickname. It had a certain ring to it: certain kudos. But now, to add insult to injury, he'd been beaten to death with the bloody thing!

What was the world coming to? Villains had no respect these days.

Webster's greatest pride had always been acting the provider: for his wife, his gang, even the little runts who sometimes took the chance of sponging off him. He'd gainfully employed prostitutes for the local constabulary's parties, helped out his constituent member with backhanders, and contributed more than his fair share towards the coffers of the local Conservative Party.

What more did the bloody world want from him?

Webster kicked out at the cat again, just for good measure.

***

Webster walked to the middle of the road, ignoring the traffic driving straight through him at regular intervals. He'd stopped noticing such oddities quite some time ago.

It was late evening. The street lights glinting off the puddle filled pot-holes. Since the council had cut back on maintenance, the roads had got worse and worse. A taxi passed, spraying an angry pedestrian with muddy water and before he'd even thought about what he was doing, Webster was raising his hand. The taxi ignored him of course, something no taxi–driver had ever done before. Webster's face was well-known in London, especially to taxi drivers, prostitutes and police officers.

Webster's temper rose and he curled his fingers, feeling that familiar tension tingling through his body. Looking down he was surprised to see the faint outline of his beloved cosh in his hand, shimmering in the overhead lights. After a moment it disappeared again, fading away from its tip to its carefully crafted handle.

Okay, no taxi. So how could he get himself to the hospital?

Standing under a lamppost, Webster considered his options. Once he would have leant against it, but he had passed right through the last time, giving himself a rather nasty jolt of electricity on the way. It had left his head buzzing for hours.

Hearing a yap, Webster looked to his left. A woman was walking her dog along the pavement; one of those sausage-shaped things. It was straining at the leash, looking straight at him, tail wagging as it yapped its stupid head off.

"What's got into you tonight, Rambo," the woman admonished the dog, shaking its leash.

The dog could see him!

Tears misted Webster's eyes as he realized that here, at last, was another creature with which he could communicate, even if it was a stupid dog.

The dog came nearer; panting madly, wet tongue lolling from its mouth. Webster smiled as it stopped by his feet. "Hello boy," he said in a pleasant voice.

The dog looked up at him and pissed on his shoes. The woman pulled it away, telling it to wait until they had reached the park next time.

The cosh was back, but now it had a more substantial feel about it.

### Chapter 2

Elsie Moore patted her bouffant hair, pursing her bright-red lips in distaste. Plonking the stale digestive biscuit back on the chipped plate, she pushed her teacup aside and turned her gimlet eyes on Sean.

Sean Baker was a pleasant-looking young man, whose handsome features, soft-brown eyes and cheeky smile had helped him blag his unconscionable way through twenty-seven years of crookery. Using a variety of breath-takingly outrageous ruses, Sean had eased his way into lots of susceptible women's bank accounts –along with a fair number of beds – over the years.

Sean Baker was a modern-day con-man: that's what he did.

Sean may have been a modern man but he certainly wasn't averse to using some of the oldest cons on record to get his hands on other people's cash, and today was no exception.

"I've paid good money for this séance young man, so I suggest you get on with it. Post-haste!"

"Please Mrs Moore, call me, Sean," Sean responded, turning his broad smile on Mrs Moore's daughter, who was sitting demurely by her mother's side.

Tallulah Moore blushed slightly under Sean's forthright gaze and lowered her eyes.

"Mr Baker," Mrs Moore retorted. "I was told you knew what you were doing. Either you begin this séance right now, or I'm seeing to it that you'll never have another client – ever again!"

Mrs Moore tended to make every other sentence an exclamation. It had annoyed Sean right from when the lanky old woman had sat at the table, but he'd swallowed his ire and got on with it.

Sean had spent the past hour using his not inconsiderable oral skills to prise information from the two women sitting in front of him. These hard earned facts would give him a fat fee tonight. All he had to do to get it, was feed those same facts right back at his clients in a way that would convince then he had contact with the 'Other World'.

It had worked a treat in the past, so it should do so this time.

Sean coughed loudly to cover the soft thump that unexpectedly emanated from the corner of the room. He'd better get started, Evan had been squashed in that cupboard so long that he'd probably fallen asleep by now.

***

Far from being asleep, Evan Johnson was trying to ease the cramp from his leg, wondering just how much longer Sean was going to spend flimflamming the two women before getting on with the séance.

In the concealed cupboard in the corner of the room, Evan – dressed from head to foot in an all encompassing black body suit – sweated as he listened to the conversation on the other side of the thin wall. He scribbled furiously into a leather-clad diary, a pen-torch gripped between his teeth, its thin beam highlighting his shaky writing. Easing his body, he tried settling his large frame more comfortably into the small space, clicking off the torch as he waited for his cue.

Evan may have been a diminutive one-sixty-eight, but he was almost as wide, his large biceps, bulging the seams of his jacket to breaking–point. To his friends – but only behind his back – Evan was laughingly known as, The Brick Shit House; a nickname that would have brought a red blush to his cheeks had anyone been courageous enough to repeat it to his face.

Evan and Sean had been friends since they were eleven, back when Sean had rescued him from a group of school kids who were doing their best to bury him in the basement of a derelict building. They were blocking a half-collapsed façade, that Evan was hiding under, with chunks of bricks and concrete; their shouts of, "Gorilla, gorilla," bringing tears of shame to the unfortunate child's eyes.

As the terrified boy backed his way further into the jumble of bricks and broken pipes – all that remained of the huge basement – his head became enveloped in a spider's web and the old nightmare returned, made worse by the fact that what little light there had been, was quickly fading into a smaller and smaller slit as his tormentors filled the opening.

Evan had an unfortunate phobia of spiders, dating back to the time when he had been just a baby and had tried eating a spider's nest. The hundreds of tiny arachnids suddenly covering his face and eyes, running in and out of his mouth, had evoked such terror that he still had the occasional nightmare.

The last point of light flickered out and Evan found himself in complete darkness, slapping the clinging webs from his head, convinced that he was about to choke on mouthfuls of countless writhing spiders.

Then unexpectedly, the bricks were flung aside, and a beam of mote-speckled sunlight struck his eyes, almost blinding him. Centred in the radiant light, haloed like an angel – Evan knew what an angel looked like, having seen a picture of one in Sunday school classes – Sean Baker's face appeared. The face beamed a wide smile, and Evan was convinced that he had died and gone to heaven.

"You alright mate?" the angelic apparition asked. "Come on quick, before they come back."

Grabbed by the shoulders, Evan was dragged through the hole by a tall, gangly boy about his own age.

"Name's Sean," the boy said, brushing dust from Evan's torn school jacket.

And from that day forward, Evan had followed Sean everywhere. They became the closest of friends and later, as they grew from boys to young men, Evan realised that it was his God-given duty to protect Sean from the idiotic money-making ideas his friend kept dreaming up.

Evan, it turned out, was a pragmatist, unlike Sean, who was the world's biggest dreamer.

Finished with his note taking, Evan opened a small hatch in the wall and slipped the brown covered notebook onto a shelf, alongside a line of other books. Then closing the hatch, he settled himself down to wait for Sean to start the book reading session.

A satisfied grin spread across his round, moon-like face. He had to admit it; this time – against all the odds – Sean seemed to have hit the jackpot. This séance idea was a winner. It would earn them a fortune. They might even be able to pay the rent this month.

***

Having heard the faint click the secret hatch made when Evan closed it, Sean turned to Tallulah Moore and picked up her hand, holding it between his. "Now, shall we find out what the future holds for you, young lady? Let's use my Spirit Reading Diary, shall we?" he said, emphasising the word spirit in a harsh whisper.

The young woman's large blue eyes fixed on his face with a trusting fascination, giving him a sudden flush of guilt. Quickly pushing it aside, he got back into his stride.

Guilty feelings don't bring home the bacon Sean. Just keep that in mind.

"On the shelf over here in the corner, are my spiritual diaries," Sean explained in a cryptic tone.

Walking over, he picked one up, smoothing his hand across the brown leather cover. Coming back to the table he laid the diary in front of Mrs Moore with a flourish.

"This is a special kind of remote writing diary that I keep for my favoured clients, like yourself. I have one for each of my numerous clientele, as you can see from the shelf over there. My contact on the other side writes the entries for me."

Sighing under his breath, Sean closed his eyes, one hand clutched to his breast. "Such a sweet old lady," he finally said in an awed tone.

Then turning his gaze towards the ceiling, Sean slammed his palm down on the diary, making the two women jump. "My contact to the world beyond is my dear, dear Nana," he said, his heart-rending tone bringing a sob from Tallulah Moore.

Turning his attention back to the diary, Sean stroked the cover. "Oh and whose name is this I spy on the front cover, then?"

Mrs Moore stared down at the label on which was written her daughter's name in a spidery scrawl, and then up to Sean's face, her features twisted in a frown that showed her suspicions.

"Nana?" she queried.

"Yes, my dear departed Nana. May God rest her soul. She passed over some time ago now. She's one of my very best contacts in the other world, although she does tire so easily. So we must not over-tax her. We must be quick."

There was a sudden loud thump from the corner of the room, and the line of diaries on the shelf fell to one side.

Sean may not have been the sharpest tooth on the saw, but fortunately, he was quick-witted.

"Ah," he said, staring in alarm at the bulge that had unexpectedly appeared in the wall. "There she is now, impatient to get started as usual. So let's begin, shall we?"

An ear piercing scream sounded from the corner of the room, followed by a further thump that shook the floor. Sean held his breath.

What the hell was Evan playing at in there?

***

Poor Evan was far from playing. Hidden in the cupboard, biting his lower lip against the pain cramping his leg, Evan had been desperately massaging his calf, which was now trembling and jumping about like a small schoolboy waiting in line for the toilet.

Evan had been locked up in the cupboard for at least an hour and was wondering just how much longer Sean would take before starting the damned séance. The cramp in his leg finally eased and he heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

Then something touched the end of his nose. Unable to bring his hand up, because it was now wedged between his leg and the wall, Evan tried twitching his nose.

It didn't help one little bit.

Nor did easing out his bottom lip and blowing air up at the offending area. Whatever it was that had touched his nose did so again and, after some pushing and shoving, he finally managed to manoeuvre his hand up to shoulder height so he could switch on the torch.

There, only millimetres from his face, hanging from a silvery thread was the biggest, hairiest, fattest spider Evan had ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes on. Its eight, long, jointed legs, reached out for him like the claws of a hungry monster. The nightmare grew in size with every passing second.

The spider stared at Evan with shiny black eyes: Evan stared back with terrified, wide ones.

For a moment nothing happened, and then Evan gasped in shock, sucking the terrifying creature into his mouth.

Evan's worst nightmare had just become a reality!

The frightened creature sought escape by running up and down Evan's tongue, its hairy body tickling the roof of his mouth. Evan screamed, expelling the troublesome arachnid, which swung back out of his mouth on its thin thread. Then, having reached the end of its arc, it headed right back, taking on the size of a football in Evan's traumatised mind.

Eyes now saucer-like, Evan jerked his head backwards in a violent reaction, striking it against the wall and knocking himself unconscious.

Sliding downward, he hit the floor with a thump, knees forcing the plasterboard away from the wooden framework, causing an alarming bulge in the wall.

***

Back in the room, Sean quickly recovered, dismissing the scream with a wave of his hand.

"Nana seems to be a bit frisky tonight," he observed, opening the cover of the diary and pointing to the first entry to distract the women's attention away from the bulge that continued to grow in the wall.

Using the information gleaned from Sean's conversation with the two women, Evan had written a long entry detailing where they had been that day and who they had spoken to. It was really quite a clever trick, which never ceased to amaze his marks, stemming any doubts they might hold about his psychic abilities.

The next page held a rough outline about who Tallulah Moore would meet and marry, how many children she would have, and how happy she would be with the large house her husband would buy for her. The young woman's forehead wrinkled in irritation when she read that her mother would be living with them.

Sean smiled to himself as he watched them reading the text. Evan had come up trumps. They were lapping it up like cats with a saucer full of cream.

Finally closing the diary, Sean placed it back on the shelf with the others, eyeing the cracks in the wall with alarm.

### Chapter 3

Twitching his shoulders, Sean tried ignoring Mrs Moore's eyes boring into the back of his neck.

After lighting a small pot of incense, he put some soothing new-age music on the CD player. Then as the melancholic mating calls of a blue whale filled the room, he settled into his chair, waving his hand back and forth over the three candles grouped in the centre of the table. The candles seemingly sprang to life on their own, their flames casting a warm flickering glow across the table.

Another double wave of Sean's hands, and the room lights dimmed. Both women looked at Sean expectantly, the candle flames casting shadows across their faces.

The small round, three-legged table they sat at was no ordinary table. Sean and Evan had spent several weeks building various devices into the space below the top. They had hidden several buttons beneath the intricate veneer that when pushed, set off a variety of stunning effects.

"So Mrs Moore, let's begin," Sean said. "Just a couple of things I need to tell you before we start. Firstly, we'll be holding hands during the séance and I can't stress hard enough just how dangerous breaking the circle would be. In fact, such an action could cause the spirits to become extremely agitated, and we don't want agitated spirits now, do we? So please wait for me to break the contact first." Sean paused for effect.

Mrs Moore just harrumphed, glowering across the table at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light from the candles.

"Secondly," he continued, "whatever happens, whatever you see, please don't leave your seats. You'll be in no danger at all as long as you stay seated, but leaving your seats . . . well, let's just say that the last client who did so is still in Broadbottom Mental Institution." He smiled, reassuringly patting the back of Tallulah's hand. The poor girl had turned a deathly white in the dim light.

"Lastly," he said with a knowing nod, beaming at both women so hard that his jaw began to ache. "please don't be alarmed when I go into a trance. Even though my hands may seem cold and lifeless, I can assure you, I'll be very much alive."

Sean shuffled his chair nearer the table, leant his head back, closed his eyes, and placed his hands palm down on the table. "Let us begin," he said in a loud stage whisper.

The candles flickered out, but both women gasped when they unexpectedly reignited again, shooting flames a good five feet into the air.

Christ, he'd told Evan to adjust the bloody things after the last session. He was lucky they hadn't set fire to Mrs Moore's wig!

Extinguishing the candles, Sean quickly flipped open a hidden compartment in the edge of the table, withdrawing two fake hands. He slipped them across the table.

"Hold my hands and let us make the circle," he said in a low monotone.

Feeling a pull on the fake hands, Sean let them go. A slight pressure was exerted on the rubber fingers by hidden springs, changing the tension every now and then, making it appear they were moving in the other person's grip. He was really rather pleased with how real they felt, and still had plans to put some heat pads in there as well.

Groaning loudly, Sean's practised fingers began pressing the hidden buttons, playing the table like a professional pianist.

***

As Sean's fingers flew over the table top, a small pneumatic pump pushed a rod out from the bottom of one leg, raising one side of the table. It thumped down again, and then rose upwards as all three legs were lifted clear of the ground.

The two women gasped.

"My beloved Nana," Sean intoned. "we ask that you commune with us and move among us."

Everything stayed deathly quiet. So with as much dignity as he could muster, Sean repeated the words twice more. The room was suddenly filled with a cold draught blowing from under the table, and for extra effect, Sean tilted it again.

"If you are with us Nana, please rap once."

A resounding base boom echoed round the room, soliciting a tight shriek from Tallulah Moore.

"We must break the circle now," Sean intoned, withdrawing the false hands and stowing them back in the secret compartment.

Relighting the candles he began groaning loudly, hammering his heels on the floor, his whole body trembling as he twitched in his seat.

Tallulah put her hand to her mouth and gasped. Her mother watched him with a hard stare through the dim light.

Oozing children's Slime from his mouth, Sean let it to drip down his chin, at the same time whipping his head back and forth, rolling his eyes and panting wildly.

A large glob of green gunge flew off, hitting Tallulah Moore in the face. She whimpered, wiping it away with trembling fingers.

A cloud of white smoke suddenly appeared from the bottoms of Sean's trouser legs, swirling across the floor.

"Nana," he called. "Nana, come, let us see you."

The candles flared and went out again, leaving them in total darkness.

***

Back in the cupboard, Evan had just regained consciousness. His head was pounding, and his eyes were still rolling in his head.

Hearing the words, "Nana, come let us see you." He realised that if he didn't hurry he would miss his cue.

Evan struggled to stand up but was wedged solidly. Groping around with his free hand, he managed to pull a set of night-vision goggles over his head and grab the props he'd need.

"Nana, come let us see you," Sean shouted again, his patience obviously wearing thin.

Evan gave a tremendous push with his knees and the side of the cupboard collapsed with a resounding crash. Evan followed it, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

"Ah there you are Nana," Sean said.

Everyone began coughing as the dust from the broken plasterboard wafted across the table, making it difficult to breathe.

Sean hurriedly regained his composure. "Nana," he spluttered through a mouthful of fine powder. "our visitors would like to talk with you. Give one rap for yes, two raps for no. Will you answer their questions?"

A single rap sounded from across the room.

"Where are you? Show yourself at once!" Mrs Moore's voice boomed from the darkness.

Evan staggered to his feet, swaying from side to side as the world continued to rotate about his head. He pulled a nightdress from the black bag he was carrying, along with a balloon. The props had been covered with luminous paint, and assembled in the dark looked for all the world like a bald-headed, bent old lady, floating through the air.

"Come nearer Nana," Sean called softly, and Evan wafted the nightdress and balloon across the room towards the table.

Tallulah Moore cried out, pushing her chair back.

Sean leant across and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "No," he said. "Please stay in your seat. You must stay in your seat."

Tallulah Moore settled down again and Evan breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Best get this over with quickly, Evan decided, jerking the ghost round the room as though it was suffering from an overdose of uppers.

"Is my husband there with you? The little shit!" Mrs Moore called out.

Evan – still unsteady on his feet – stumbled on a piece of plasterboard and let go of the balloon. The little old lady floated across the table, touching the still hot candle cluster, burning a small hole in the neck of the balloon.

The group were suddenly presented with a demented little old lady, flying round the room like a banshee, making long, drawn-out farty noises as the air whistled through the hole.

They all ducked under the table, Sean accidentally reigniting the candles again, where upon three sheets of bright blue flames hit the ceiling, lapping round the light fitting.

Evan shouted out a curse, tearing off his night-vision goggles as the light burnt into his eyes.

Mrs Moore crawled out from under the table, a thick electric cord wrapped round her neck. She collapsed into Sean's arms, accidentally thrusting the end of the cord into his ear.

Sean unexpectedly found himself in the grip of an excruciating pain as the electric current passed through his head. His arms convulsed tightly, clamping round Mrs Moore, pulling her into his chest.

And that's the picture Tallulah Moore witnessed as she emerged from under the table – her mother and Sean Baker, locked in each others arms, twitching their way across the room.

"Really!" Tallulah Moore admonished her mother, turning her nose in the air and stalking from the room. "I know daddy is dead, but taking a toy-boy is clearly a step too far!"

***

The police had gone. The fire-fighters, after extinguishing the fire before it had a chance to burn the building to the ground, had packed away their gear; the news reporters had got their headlines for the next day's editions; Sean, Evan and Mrs Moore, had all been carted off to the hospital in a series of ambulances.

The police officer bent low, checking under the table in the centre of the room.

"Strange," she muttered, getting up and brushing some plaster dust from her sleeve before heading for the door. "some half-arsed shite has gone down here today and no mistake."

### Chapter 4

Evan grunted in his sleep, shifting in the uncomfortable red plastic chair. He was dreaming about the recent séance – more like a nightmare really. He shifted again and the chair squeaked across the floor, waking him up. Opening sleep weary eyes, he glanced over at the hospital bed.

Sean was still unmoving, head slightly turned to one side. He was dribbling; the bandage the nurse had applied to his ear now slightly askew. It had been three days since Sean's admittance and Evan was worried.

Evan stood, stretching his back, easing out the cramps of his long night vigil. Glancing from the window, he saw dawn had begun bleaching the horizon red. Time to go: the hospital was iffy enough about him sitting here all night as it was.

They had made it more than plain that he was not welcome outside visiting hours during the day. It had only been the doctor's advice that talking to Sean might help him out of his coma that persuaded the charge nurse to let Evan stay at the hospital all night.

Turning back to the bed he sighed. "Well mate I'm off to get some grub. I'll see you this evening."

Leaving the side ward, Evan walked towards the exit doors. Passing the central nurses station, he nodded at a sister reading some patient notes. She gave a sad little smile and went back to her records.

Evan pushed through the double doors into the dimly lit corridor beyond, feeling rather lonely and depressed.

***

Sean heard his friend's fading footsteps and opened his eyes. He wriggled, trying to get more comfortable. Reaching down the side of the bed, he pushed a button on the remote, slowly raising the head of the bed so his upper body was more upright.

He had woken some time ago. At first he was disorientated and dizzy. Not able to focus his eyes or keep his thoughts straight.

Laying in the darkness, he became aware of steady breathing off to one side. Turning his head was surprised to see Evan asleep in a plastic chair, the legs of which strained outwards under the weight. For a moment he wondered what might happen if they gave up their unequal struggle.

It was then it hit him.

He was in a hospital bed.

The realisation shook him.

For a moment he almost called out to Evan, but didn't. Someone was standing right behind his friend, but in the darkness Sean couldn't make out who it was.

A doctor? A nurse? Perhaps another visitor?

For some reason, whoever it was, made Sean feel very uncomfortable. Lifting his head, he squinted, trying to get a better view.

As Sean moved his head the shadowy figure dissolved, leaving a faint outline that lasted a few seconds before seemly flowing into the surroundings.

Letting his head fall back on the pillows, Sean ran his hand through his hair, blinking his eyes rapidly. It was then he became aware of the bandage on his ear. Exploring it with his fingertips, he frowned.

Yes, the séance. That was it. That stupid bloody woman had tried to electrocute him!

Sean closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the accident in his mind. He sighed quietly, knowing there was no way they'd get paid for all their hard work now. He'd just have to think up another ruse to get some cash.

As Sean had that thought, a giggle sounded from somewhere on the other side of the room. He looked over at Evan, but his friend was still sleeping. Anyway the giggle had sounded more like that a small child might make. Still trying to work out where the giggle had originated, Sean heard a series of clicks skitter across the floor towards him. It sounded like a small dog had just run across the room and under his bed.

Taking a deep breath, Sean closed his eyes. It must be something to do with the accident. He was hallucinating, or going mad: hopefully the former. The electric shock had obviously done something seriously bad to his brain.

Evan moved in the chair and Sean closed his eyes, lying still as his friend stood up. There was too much going on just now for him to want to talk. He needed some rest. Some time to sort his head out. It would be best to talk about it tomorrow – or maybe the day after that.

As Sean drifted off to sleep, he heard the soft giggle again.

Yes, definitely the day after that!

***

"Ah, good to see you've regained consciousness," the stick-thin doctor said as he burst into the side ward. "Had us worried there for a moment, Sean-my-man."

Sean cringed at stick-doc's attempted frivolity. After all, such fickle name calling had been the bane of his life throughout his schooldays.

"The name's Sean Baker," he responded.

"Quite so," stick-doc replied, poking here and prodding there as he carried out a series of tests. "Could have been far nastier, you know." He tutted. "Lucky you've got a thick head, hey Sean-my-man?"

And with that parting shot, stick-doc bustled out of the room again.

During his examination, stick-doc explained that Sean had received a severe electric shock to the head, which had stopped his heart for a few minutes. Stick-doc's concern was that Sean might have suffered some brain damage, but thankfully all seemed well.

After stick-doc left, Sean sat on the hard plastic chair, slowly pulling on his jeans, trying to refocus his eyes, which still tended to roam in different directions every now and then. He stood up, hanging on to the chair-back for support, his jeans bunched round his ankles.

"Better sit down before you fall down," a voice said from behind him.

Glancing over his shoulder Sean saw a short, muscular man leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Putting the fact that the man's shoulders appeared to be half-buried in the plasterwork down to his still dodgy vision, Sean quickly pulled up his jeans and sat back down, wondering if this was another doctor.

"The name's Webster," the man said, pushing himself upright. Moving to the bed, he sat on the edge, looking across at Sean with a hard stare.

"Webster," Sean muttered, shaking his head, "I don't know that name."

"Touch me," Webster ordered, holding out his hand.

"What?"

Webster shook his hand impatiently. "Come on, I said, touch me."

Unsure where this was going, Sean reached out and laid his fingertips on the back of the man's hand, quickly pulling them away again. The hand felt like a block of ice.

"You can see me, yes?"

Sean nodded.

"And you can hear me, yes?"

Sean wondered were stick-doc was, as this was becoming way beyond bizarre.

"Just who the hell are you? What do you want?" Sean demanded, his voice rising.

The ward door opened and a nurse walked in. "You okay?" she asked, looking around.

"I was just asking this man here what he wanted. Is he a doctor or something?"

After checking the room again, her eyebrows rising, the nurse stared at Sean. "You were talking to a doctor?" she asked.

"Yes," Sean said, nodding his head vigorously. "Him. There."

Sean pointed at Webster, who was now huffing on his fingernails and buffing them on his jacket lapel, a look of total boredom on his face.

"Would you just wait here a moment, Mr Baker? I won't be a sec."

As the nurse disappeared, Sean turned his puzzled expression back on Webster.

The man smiled back at him, continuing to burnish his nails. "This should be interesting," he muttered.

But before Sean could ask Webster what might be interesting, the door opened again and stick-doc re-entered, a harassed look on his face.

"Now Mr Baker, what's all this about you talking to a non-existent doctor?" he asked, his protuberant blue eyes flicking worriedly round the room.

### Chapter 5

Sean thrashed about on the trolley but the restraints held him fast.

Overhead lights flicked in and out of view as the male nurse wheeled him through the long underground corridor between the two hospital buildings.

While he sped on his way, the silver-coated overhead steam pipes gurgled and thumped in time with his racing heart.

"If you don't stop shouting, I'll have to give you another injection, Mr Baker," stick-doc said in a restrained tone. "This is a hospital, with sick patients. Now please keep your voice down."

"But . . . but . . ."

They rounded a corner and slammed into a large lift.

"Psych," stick-doc ordered, backing his way out of the lift. "Tell them that the patient has had an electric shock to the head: a bit like ECT. They should be used to dealing with that sort of thing up there."

The big doors slammed shut and the lift engaged with a worrying thunk, dropping the cage six inches before it began rising again, rattling and banging against its tracks.

"But . . . but . . ."

The doors slammed open and Sean squinted at the bright lights glaring down on him.

"Nearly there," a pleasant face came into his field of vision. "Soon have you tucked away, safe and sound."

Sean was still, 'But . . . butting,' when they finally carried his struggling body into the padded cell and dropped him on the floor.

***

Evan walked along the corridor towards the Day-room, apprehension lending a tight frown to his usually smiling face. Entering the large, brightly painted room, he spotted Sean slumped in a chair. A scattering of patients was sitting about, chatting or watching a TV bolted to a bracket high on the wall.

"Hello mate," Evan said, sitting in a plastic-covered armchair. It made farty noises as he settled himself down.

Sean looked up with a vacant expression.

Evan waved a hand in front of his friend's face. "What the hell have they done to you, Sean?"

"Eh?"

Evan lent forward. "It's me, Evan."

Sean looked at him slack-faced for a moment, and then suddenly seemed to recognise who it was.

"Evan," he said. "Think I'm going mad."

"You've always been bloody mad. Nothing new there."

"Evan, you've got to get me out of here. Please." Sean was looking around in apprehension.

The fear and emotion in Sean's voice tore at Evan's heart. "Take it easy mate," he said, shushing Sean. "Keep it down."

Sean nodded, lowering his voice. "They're planning on giving me another one of those . . . what's it's. You know, where they plug your bonce into the mains."

"An ECT," Evan said.

Evan had been told that by the doctor earlier, which was why he was here. He firmly believed that Sean had already had enough electricity shunted through his brain to last him a lifetime. Plugged in, his friend could probably light up the whole of Blackpool Tower by now.

Evan looked about furtively, making sure they couldn't be overheard.

"Don't worry none about that. I'm coming back tonight and getting you out."

"But . . . but . . ." Sean pinched himself. Ever since his first encounter with ECT he'd been faltering over that particular little conjunction. "But where will we go? They told me the house had burnt down."

"No, it's okay. It was just the lounge. They managed to put it out before the whole place burnt down."

Sean perked up at the news, his face splitting into a grin. "I thought you'd buggered off and left me here to my fate."

"Don't be an idiot, I . . . " Evan paused, sinking his neck into his shoulders in a cringe. "Sorry wasn't thinking. Bad choice of words that. Look, I can't explain now, got things to take care of. So I'll be back tonight, round three or four in the morning. Be ready."

Evan took a backward glance as he left the ward, frowning when he saw his friend slumped down in his seat again, watching the Jeremy Kyle show on TV.

Poor sod needs out of here, and quickly.

***

After Evan left, Sean had another visitor.

Mr Panchino, a psychiatrist specialising in visual disturbances sat down beside him. Opening a file on his knees he smiled at Sean.

"Well Sean," Mr Panchino began, "it appears you've experienced some," he paused a beat, searching for the right word, "apparitions or illusions?"

Sean kept quiet, ignoring the smiling figure lurking by the doctor's left shoulder. He'd quickly learnt nobody else could see that particular man but him, and doubting his own sanity, Sean was now doing his best to not see him as well.

Unfortunately it didn't appear to be working.

"So Sean, when did you first see this man?"

"Webster."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Webster. His name is Brodie Webster."

"And he told you that?"

Sean nodded, trying not to look at Webster, now wearing a broad, knowing smile as he slowly shook his head.

"Big mistake telling him that, Sean," Webster smirked.

"So when did you first see this Webster character then Sean-boy?"

Taking a deep breath Sean narrowed his eyes. He hated people who used over friendly pet names, as though it somehow stopped them appearing so patronising.

"Tut, tut, Sean. Don't lose it again. You know what happened the last time." Webster pursed his lips, nodding towards the end of the ward where the padded cells were located.

Mr Panchino looked over his shoulder, then back at Sean. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. And for Christ's sake stop calling me Sean-boy will you."

Mr Panchino nodded, making a note on the clipboard he was carrying. "So is he here now, Sean? Can you see him?"

"No."

"Yes you can." Webster smirked.

"Are you sure, Sean?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Liar," accused Webster.

Mr Panchino turned over a page. "So when did you see him last?"

"Haven't seen him since you shocked me the first time."

Webster doubled over with laughter, slapping his thighs. "Oh Sean, you're such a terrible liar."

"Piss off!" Sean shouted, half-rising from his chair, losing his temper as Webster continued to mock him.

A nurse unexpectedly appeared at his side and Sean felt a sharp sting in his upper arm.

The first thing Sean saw after he woke was the now familiar world of soft walls and padded floors.

"See what happens when you swear at the good doctor," Webster chuckled.

Sitting up, Sean leant his back against the padded wall, looking at his persecutor with a frown. "You're not going away, are you?"

Webster squatted in front of him and sighed. "Like I told you before, Sean. There's nothing I'd like better than to go away, but I can't. Seems there's something left undone that I have to do. And you old son, are going to help me do it."

"Why me?"

"Because you can see me. You're a medium, you can talk to ghosts. Who the hell else can I go to for help? You're stuck with me. Get used to it old son, because you're helping me whether you want to or not."

"I'm not a medium. How many bloody times do I have to tell you that before you get it through your thick skull?"

"Then I guess you'll stay right here," Webster said, all reasonable persuasion. "You're choice. Think it over."

Sean found himself suddenly alone and once more set about trying to figure out whether he really was a medium, or had just fried his brains.

Neither choice appealed to him very much.

### Chapter 6

Sean heard a noise at the cell door and looked up. A shadowy face was staring back in at him through the toughened glass window.

After a few moments the door opened and Evan walked in, smelling like something out of Billingsgate Fish Market.

Sean waved his hand in front of his nose. "Christ Evan, what an earth did you step in?"

"Little accident with a wheelie-bin," Evan replied. "Come on, on your feet."

Dodging the odd night-nurse prowling the wards, they managed to reach the ground floor without trouble.

Evan quietly clicked the unit's front door closed behind them and turned to Sean. "You can thank me later mate. Now let's get the hell out of here." He pushed aside a cat with his foot but another one immediately wound itself around his other leg. He swore loudly. "Where the fuck are all these cats coming from?"

A third cat turned up, waving its tail back and forth, howling like a banshee, setting the rest off. Before they knew what was happening, the cat's howls had started the next door neighbour's dog barking.

The window of the porter's room slammed opened. "Oi, you two! What's going on out there?"

They took off across the lawn, heading for the hospital wall, two more cats joining the group at their heels. Sean was first up, followed quickly by Evan. They had just jumped down onto a van's roof, parked next to the wall, when a police car passed the end of the alley, blue light flashing.

"Quick, let's get out of here," Evan shouted.

They ran for the far end of the alley, stopping a passing taxi, but had travelled no more than five metres when the cab screeched to a halt.

"What's that God-awful smell?" the cab driver asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Er, it's fish," replied Evan, opening the window and waving his hand, trying to disperse the stink.

"Okay, out you get," ordered the driver.

Sean and Evan exited the cab and watched it drive off.

"So, what now?" Sean asked.

"Now, we get you the hell out of here," Evan answered, hissing at another circling cat.

***

"Oh shit!" Sean whispered, peeking out from behind the bush at the police car parked outside his house. "The hospital must have called them."

"Come on mate, let's go to my place. We can figure out what to do there."

They had just pushed there way out of the bush, when they were both drenched in cold water.

"What the . . ." Evan shouted, turning round.

Sean followed his friend's gaze, spotting old Mrs Morris standing at her open bedroom window, a blue plastic bucket clutched in her hands.

"What the hell did you do that for, Mrs Morris?" Evan shouted up at her.

She peered at them short-sightedly for a moment. "Oh, it's you two boys. Wasn't meaning to get you. I was aiming at them little buggers."

Sean looked to the other side of the garden path. At least ten cats sat staring at them. "Let's hope your impromptu bath puts them off the scent," he said to Evan with a chuckle.

"Go on, get off with you," Mrs Morris shouted at the top of her voice, throwing the bucket as hard as she could at the cats.

Sean had to admire the strength with which the old woman threw the bucket. It was a pity her aim was so poor though, because he had no time to warn Evan before the bucket bounced off his friend's head and over the low garden wall, clattering across the tarmac.

"You alright up there misses?" a voice shouted from down the road.

A car door slammed and an engine started.

Sean grabbed Evan's arm. "Come on quick, let's get out of here. That's the police."

Helping Evan stagger up the side of the house into the back garden, Sean guided him towards a fence that he knew backed on to a small lane leading out into a side road.

Evan grabbed the fence and shook his head.

"You okay Evan?"

"Yeah, but I think I got a lump on the back of my head from that bloody bucket!"

"Just as well your head is so thick then," Sean replied. "Come on, I'll give you a leg up."

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in Evan's bed-sit drinking tea, agreeing how lucky they had been not to be picked up by the police.

***

Sean took a sip of his tea, then puffing his lips out, returned the mug to the tiny table. It was far too hot to drink, though Evan had just taken a big mouthful and was even now taking another.

Sean looked round the flat. However, to call it a flat, he thought, was rather stretching the description. It was a tiny bed-sit overlooking a small square of grass that, from the look of it, was used as a toilet by the local canine population.

A group of cats sat in a circle, looking up at the window.

"Those cats are still down there, Evan. Perhaps you should go and have a shower or something. You've made this place smell like Captain Birdseye's boat."

Evan grunted, taking another mouthful of tea. A small child could have drowned in his mug, which was about six times the size of a normal one. Plonking it down on the table he sat back.

Sean grabbed at his mug before the rocking table deposited it in his lap.

"So tell me about it then," Evan said, crossing his hands over his ample belly.

"Tell you about what?"

"These things you've been seeing, you cretin! What do you think?"

Pursing his lips, Sean glanced over his friend's shoulder. Webster waved the tips of his fingers at him and waggled his eyebrows.

"Well," Sean said, fidgeting uncomfortably, "I guess the shock I got, along with what they did to me at that damned hospital, must have scrambled my brains a bit."

"The nurse told me you were seeing people that weren't there. Talking to them even."

"Well perhaps. In a way. Maybe."

Webster pushed himself off the wall and sauntered across the room. Evan shuddered as Webster passed right through him.

"Why not tell him the truth?" Webster demanded in a harsh voice. "If you don't, it'll be the worst for your little friend here."

Leaning forward, Evan looked over his shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck. "Did we leave the door open when we came in or something? There's one hell of a draft coming from somewhere."

"I don't see you. You don't exist," Sean whispered.

"What?" Evan asked, turning back. "Of course I bloody well exist."

"No, not you. Him. I was talking –" Stumbling to a stop, Sean sighed.

"Him who?" Evan demanded, looking around. "There's no-one but us two here."

Webster turned and walked back through Evan. Pausing at the wall, he turned, giving Sean a knowing stare. "Don't push me too hard Sean," he said. "There are things we have to do, together. I'll be back real soon. Bye for now."

With that Webster disappeared and Sean was left staring at a blank wall, small motes floating before his eyes.

Evan shivered, and then got to his feet. Walking over, he checked to see the flat door was properly closed.

After doing the same with the window, he turned to Sean. "Okay, what the hell is going on here, Sean? You're getting me really worried now."

### Chapter 7

After Webster had left the two men in the cretinous little bed-sit, he headed back to the Cusp, using the mind-jump technique he had recently discovered. Think where you want to be and – bingo – you're there. It would have been a great ability to possess when alive. Now he was dead? Not so much.

And anyway, what was all this dead malarkey about? He still hadn't figured that out yet.

What he did know was that he now existed in a strange in-between sort of world where nothing made sense: trapped there by his mother's pendant.

A tear came to Webster's eye when he thought about his mother. She had been the centre of his world: the very reason for his being.

Webster was quite old-fashioned in that way. When his mother had died, it had been like a thunderbolt striking at his very existence. A feeling of dread overcame him that he had never forgotten.

Finding a tree, Webster sat against its old gnarled, black bark. The sky was roiling with dark clouds, and away in the distance lightening flickered. He shivered, feeling lonely and lost: Just as when his father – as was so often the case – had beat him and locked him away under the stairs for the night.

Webster closed his eyes, reliving the last day he had spent alive, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

It was a cold night, the sky clear, bringing a frosty feel to the beach. Webster looked up; he'd never seen so many stars, and the sight made him feel uncomfortable. They had been on the remote beach for a couple of hours now, having driven up from London the day before.

Webster had arranged with his contact weeks ago for the drugs to be landed in a small cove on the far west coast of Scotland. It was a safe place he had often used in the past, but tonight something was making him jittery. He paced back and forth, the sand ruining his expensive Ferragamo shoes.

"There it is," a quiet voice said.

Webster saw the flickering light out at sea and checked his gun. He had only used it once in his life, a long time ago when his turf had been challenged by a young Turk. Even so, he always carried it with him when taking delivery of drugs.

Slipping the gun back in his belt at the small of his back, Webster patted the long pocket sown into his trousers. The weight of the cosh against his leg gave him a feeling of intense pleasure. There was something far more satisfying about beating a man to death with a cosh than shooting him from a distance.

Webster checked his men, making sure they all knew what was expected of them. He was a planner, leaving nothing to chance. Too many of his rivals had come unstuck by trusting to luck. The light had moved closer, and Webster could just make out the throb of an outboard engine above the noise of the waves.

Three-quarters of an hour later, as the last bulky package was carried up the beach to the waiting van, Webster checked his watch.

"Bring the cash down," he ordered one of his men, glancing up at the stars again, his forehead creasing when an icy finger touched the skin between his shoulder blades.

Ten minutes later the boat was on its way back to the large ship anchored out at sea, and Webster was making his way across the dunes to the road, calculating the return he would get on his money. Three or four million, he reckoned, once they had padded the heroin with additives. The resultant brown would be passed down to his distributors for sale on the streets, and then all he would have to do was sit and wait for the money to roll in.

A lovely drop of boodle, he thought, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. By the time he had reached the single-lane track and his car, the van carrying the drugs had already left for London.

Webster never travelled with the load, because that was far too risky. He was taking a big enough chance being here at all, but he never trusted his men not to either balls it up, or be tempted to slip one or two packets into their own deep pockets.

Adhering to the speed limit, Webster's driver got him back to London eleven hours later and he finally crawled into bed, falling into a deep satisfied sleep.

Three hours later Webster was up again, his face like thunder.

His delivery van had been hijacked on the M8 motorway in Scotland.

***

Nicky Sawyer glanced in the mirror, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "Check again," he said.

The man in the passenger seat held the two-way radio to his lips, speaking softly. The only response was the hiss of static.

"I don't like this," Sawyer complained. "Tell the boys in the back to keep their eyes peeled."

Sawyer had worked for Webster a long time, during which he had developed an internal radar for trouble, and right now that radar was doing its best to eat its way through the wall of his stomach.

One of the men in the back of the van rapped on the partition.

"What?" Sawyer asked, glancing at his passenger.

"He says we're being followed. A dark blue Rav 4," the man answered.

Sawyer thumped his palm on the steering-wheel. "I sodding knew it!"

The M8 stretched out in front of him, just a few vehicles at this time of night. He pondered his choices; whether to put his foot down, or look for a turn-off. Checking his mirror, Sawyer spotted the big car right behind them.

"Any sodding closer and that twat'll be in the van with us," he muttered, pressing his foot on the accelerator.

It would be safer to stay on the motorway, Sawyer decided. If the guys in the car were attacking them, they would hardly do it on a motorway full of surveillance cameras.

However, unfortunately for Sawyer, he could not have been more wrong, because the big four-by-four swung out and pulled right alongside, matching their speed.

For a moment Sawyer thought they were going to side-swipe him, but the passenger in the car pointed a shotgun at him, indicating he should pull over. On Webster's instructions none of the gang were armed, so there was little Sawyer could do but pull the van over onto the hard-shoulder.

The car pulled up behind them, four men jumping out. They all carried shotguns.

In less than two minutes their attackers had taken off with the drugs, leaving Sawyer and his men walking along the motorway shoulder, stripped to their underpants and vests, looking for an emergency phone.

They had been walking for perhaps ten minutes when a police car pulled up beside them. The driver's window wound down.

"Out for an evening stroll then, are we gents?" an officer asked, a big grin plastered across his face.

Sawyer smiled right back. "Good evening officer. We were out practising for the next London Marathon and got a little lost. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to direct us to the nearest bus stop?"

### Chapter 8

Webster was stalking up and down the office at the back of his club. Nicky Sawyer sat on a hard-backed chair looking glum. He had told his boss what had happened and was waiting for the axe to fall, convinced that he was about to be very badly hurt.

Webster took another turn round the office, slapping his cosh in the palm of his hand. Sawyer licked dry lips, praying silently.

"Describe this fella again," Webster ordered.

"Tall and thin. Had a kinda scrunched-up, ferrety face. Long nose. Wore a battered old-fashioned hat. You know, one of them fedoras they used to wear in the gangster films. Oh yeah, and one of his pinkys was missing."

Webster stopped, his eyes boring into Sawyer's. "Say that again."

"Tall and –"

"Not that you moron, the bit about his finger." Webster stood over Sawyer, eyes blazing.

Sawyer cowed down, his eyes following every movement of the cosh swinging in Webster's hand.

"He had his pinky missing. This bit." Sawyer held the tip of his digit between finger and thumb.

Webster let out a satisfied, long sigh. "Jamie bloody McKenzie," he whispered. "Wouldn't you know it?"

Sawyer relaxed a little. Spotting that his boss's mind was elsewhere for the moment, he slipped from the chair and headed for the door.

"Wait!"

Sawyer stopped, shoulders bunched round his ears, expecting at any moment that his head would disappear in an explosion of ruined flesh.

"Get the gang together. I want to talk to them."

***

Webster sat in the cab of the big yellow JCB his gang had stolen from a nearby building site a couple of hours earlier. The heater was full on, blasting out hot air against the cold winds that were trying to suck every vestige of heat from his body. If he had any sense, he would be tucked up in a nice warm bed back in London with Donna right now.

Instead, Webster was sitting in the outskirts of Glasgow at three a.m. on a cold, October night. But there was no way he could allow McKenzie to get away with ripping him off the way he had.

Besides the loss of money, Webster would lose all face with his men, and without that his boys would not hang around more than a few hours.

Webster knew his heroin would be long gone by now, broken up and distributed among McKenzie's gang members. There was no way he was getting that back. But it didn't mean he couldn't retrieve his money another way.

A couple of hundred pounds had bought the plans for McKenzie's large house, showing the locations of the alarm system and his safe. Webster planned to take back what was his and show this ruddy Scot once and for all, that he should stay his own side of the ruddy border.

Webster's informant told him that McKenzie never had less than four armed men with him: that it would be impossible to attack the stronghold without someone getting killed.

Webster thought differently, he hadn't spent three years in the paras for nothing.

Pulling out a two-way radio, he gave the order, and his men began the assault.

After cutting the cable feeding the wall-mounted cameras, they scaled the main gates. Webster knew they would have about three to five minutes to get into place before whoever was on duty spotted the cameras were out of action and made a move to find out why.

Sure enough, a few seconds after his men had reached the house, the front door opened, spilling light onto the driveway. A man came out, rubbing his hands against the cold. He was half-way down the drive when two of Webster's gang grabbed him.

Three more of Webster's men pulled on gas-masks and slipped into the house. They were all armed with tasers.

A few minutes later Webster's radio crackled and Sawyer's excited voice boomed out at him. "Okay boss, come on in. Better make it quick, though. From the looks of it, their alarm goes straight to the local nick."

Webster gunned the big machine, slamming it straight through the iron gates, breaking one right off its hinges. Accelerating up the driveway, he slewed the JCB around to the front of the house in a shower of pebbles.

As Webster slowed the JCB, a first floor window shot open. Sawyer stuck his head out, directing the JCB into position. On Sawyer's signal, Webster engaged the gears and stamped on the accelerator. A tremendous crash shook the whole house, rattling the roof tiles like demented castanets.

The JCB rammed its way through the double-skinned wall, scooping up the wall-safe on the way.

Reversing, Webster sped back down the drive, dropping the safe into the back of a waiting lorry. One of his men tied a tarpaulin over it and thumped the roof for the driver to get the hell out.

It was all over in less than five minutes, with no one hurt.

Webster was rightly proud of how well it had gone. Humming the theme tune to The Italian Job, he drove his way back down the M8 to London.

"Braveheart, my arse," he chuckled as the, 'You Are Leaving Scotland', road-sign came into view.

***

Webster drummed his fingers against his thigh, watching the light flickering from behind a heavy screen.

How much ruddy longer was this going to take?

He had employed the best safe-cracker in London to open McKenzie's big safe. The man had explained that only a thermic lance would do the job, and Webster had reluctantly given the go-ahead, hoping the lance would not destroy the contents.

It had been three hours since the safe-cracker began his work. The inside of the warehouse hissed with spattering globules of flying metal, reminiscent of a steelworks Webster had once visited as a child.

Once the safe was open, Webster planned to dump the remains in the river. Nobody would be any the wiser, even that prick from up north who had ripped him off. He pulled out his mobile, a large smile plastered across his face.

"Hello darling," Donna's sultry voice greeted him. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if you're okay. I should be home in two or three hours. What're you doing?"

"Oh, just watching TV."

Webster rang off, playing the call back in his mind. Had he heard a voice in the background? Nah, that was just the TV, like Donna had said.

The loud sputtering noises continued behind the screen and Webster went back to working out who might have betrayed him.

The way he had set the delivery up, it could only be one of three people and Webster had already eliminated one of those.

Tapping out another number, Webster spoke as soon as his call was answered. "I need a quick reply Mike. Where did we stash the van before the pick-up?"

The man responded without thinking, "The lock-up behind Hansen Crescent, why?"

Webster rang off, a grim look on his face. Mike hadn't been told the operational details and should not have known where the van had been kept.

The noisy lance cut-off and a voice called him. Pushing round the screen, Webster nodded at the sweating man who was now dismantling his equipment.

"When you're finished, load the lance in the van over there. I'm dumping the lot in the Thames. Don't worry, I'll cover the cost," Webster added at the sour look.

Pulling on a pair of heavy gloves, Webster opened the safe, gasping as he looked inside.

Except for an old-fashioned cash box, its paint slightly burnt by the heat, the safe was empty. No money, nothing!

Leaning closer, the sharp smell of burnt metal filled his nostrils, making his eyes water. Reaching in, Webster retrieved the box and shook it. Something soft thumped around inside.

### Chapter 9

Sean came back to the table with a pot of tea and poured himself a mug. He looked over at Webster, who had been explaining about the drugs hoist.

"Yes, that's all very interesting, but what's this got to do with how you were killed?" Sean asked.

"I'm coming to that." Webster sighed, watching Sean drink his tea for a moment. "You know, it's the simple things I miss, like having a cuppa. Does that sound crazy to you?"

Sean shook his head before placing his mug back on the table. "If I couldn't have my weekly curry down at Rasha's, life wouldn't be worth living," he laughed.

Webster lent back in his chair. "So tell me Sean, do I look normal to you? I mean, can you see through me or anything like that?"

Sean shook his head. "No. You look pretty solid to me. The only way I can tell you're a ghost is the soft glow surrounding you; that and the fact that you still stick parts of your body straight through things now and then."

Webster held out his arm. "Can't see nothing like a glow," he said.

Sean slipped his hand under the table, scratching the ears of the cat that had wound itself round his leg.

He looked down, his eyes widening. "Tell me something, Brodie, do you own a cat?"

"I did and I hated the bloody thing," Webster replied. "Why?"

Picking up the cat, Sean sat it on the table. It looked at Webster with hate-filled eyes.

Webster lent forward, pulling back as the cat turned and hissed at him, ears flat against its head. Sean stroked the cat until it settled back down. Licking its lips, it yawned, still staring at Webster.

"The ruddy thing should be dead instead of me!" Webster complained.

"Aw, it's kind of cute," Sean said, tickling the cat behind its ears. The cat purred loudly, rubbing its head into Sean's hand with closed eyes. "Hey!" Sean suddenly said. "It can see you, can't it?"

Webster grunted. "Whatever. What does it matter? And anyway, I want it out of here. Now!"

Opening one eye, the cat glared at Webster for a moment, lazily closed it again, then returned to its purring.

Sean studied the cat for moment. Had it really understood what Webster just said? Tossing the absurd thought aside, he turned his attention back to Webster.

"Well, this has been very informative, Brodie, but I think you should go now. But hey, leave the cat here if you want. I'll look after it."

"It's a cat. It goes where it wants. You can stick it down the loo for all I care."

The cat hissed and Sean hushed it. "Has it got a name?"

"For Christ's sake forget the bloody cat! I need your help, understand?" Webster's voice had grown harsh and menacing. "I can't leave the place I find myself in without you helping me, and if I can't leave then I guess I'll just have to hang around here and annoy you for the rest of your life."

Sean didn't like the sound of that. Not one little bit. Thinking hard he frowned. "What help?"

"Just want you to collect something and bring it to me, okay? Easy peezy."

"And you can't do it, because?"

Jumping to the floor, the cat wandered towards Webster, the tip of its tail flicking back and forth. Webster took a kick at it but his foot passed straight through.

"Because I'm not solid in this world. At least, not with most things."

"Hm yes, I can see that might be a problem for you. So what's in it for me if I do what you want?"

"Ten million in gold and diamonds."

***

Not long after Webster left the flat there was a knock on the door. Opening it, Sean saw Evan standing in the hallway.

Clutching the door frame, Sean lent forward and took a deep sniff.

"You've had a shower then. Washed all the fish guts off? Good. Come in, I've got something interesting to tell you."

Standing back, Sean watched Evan push through the doorway, the big man's shoulders brushing each side. With a slight shake of the head, he followed Evan into the kitchen.

"I'll put the kettle on," Sean said. "Sit down."

No sooner had Evan sat down than the cat jumped up onto his lap.

"What's this then?"

Sean looked over his shoulder from his position by the sink, the kettle in his hand. "What's it look like? It's a bloody cat."

"I know that, you idiot! I was asking where it came from. What's it doing here?"

"It came with . . . wait a minute, let me put the kettle on."

Standing the kettle on its base, Sean arranged the mugs, dropped in teabags and spooned four sugars into Evan's mug. He was thinking hard, worried about what Evan was going to say when he heard about Webster. Topping the mugs up with hot water, Sean dumped a spoon in each, picked up a saucer and headed over to the table.

Evan was ruffling the cat under the chin. "What's it called?" he asked, squeezing the teabag against the side of the mug with the spoon before dropping both on the saucer.

Sean shrugged.

"Where's the milk?"

"Behind you, on the counter," Sean answered.

After milking their tea, they both took a sip. Then Evan looked across at Sean with a raised eyebrow.

Putting his mug on the table, Sean cleared his voice. "Okay Evan, what I'm about to tell you might seem a little . . . er . . . strange, let's say."

"After what you've told me you've been seeing in hospital for the past few days, nothing's going to seem strange anymore. Has it got a name?"

"Has what got a name?"

"The cat. Has it got a name?"

The cat was lying on its back in Evan's lap, legs wrapped around his arm as he tickled its stomach.

"Evan, I don't know the damned cat's name. It doesn't belong to me, It's Web ¬" Sean sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. Taking a gulp of tea, he tried again. "Look, you know when I was in hospital the doctor thought I was having hallucinations, right?"

Evan turned his attention from the cat and nodded.

"Well I wasn't. There really was someone there. A dead guy called Webster. It's his cat. At least it's his wife's cat, I think."

Evan frowned, then smiled, then chuckled. "Nearly had me going there, mate."

"I'm being serious, Evan. I'm being haunted by a bloody ghost. It wants me to help it get something back from somewhere. Says I'll get ten million quid if I do."

Ignoring the sympathetic look in Evan's eyes, Sean went on explaining about the drugs, the hoist, and how McKenzie – the boss of the rival gang – had come down from Scotland to recover his stuff.

"So this McKenzie character jumped Webster?" Evan mused, between sips of tea.

Sean could see his friend was weakening and pushed on. "Yes, and during the struggle this McKenzie guy wrestled Webster's cosh away from him and beat him over the head with it."

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, left him in a pool of blood. On his way out, he let the cat in. Apparently it had a great old time poking about in Webster's skull for titbits."

Evan quickly dumped the cat on the floor, wiping his large hands down the legs of his trousers.

"Look Sean, I know the accident was hard on you and all that, but you've got to stop this. They'll have you back in the padded cell if you keep it up."

Sean sighed, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. Webster's address was scrawled across its crumpled surface. Thoughts of the millions Webster had offered him swirled around in his mind.

Of course, he had refused Webster's request. What else could he do? He had no way of laundering money, especially that amount, and didn't really believe that Webster was telling him the whole truth anyway.

Sighing again, Sean looked at Evan. His friend frowned back at him.

Not knowing how to convince Evan that he was telling the truth, Sean tried to put all thoughts of Webster and his troubles to the back of his mind.

But then, unbidden, an answer squirmed its way back out. Sean considered it.

Yes, that just might work.

### Chapter 10

The drive had taken two hours. It was a pleasant afternoon, the thin, high clouds hardly visible.

"Turn left in thirty metres," the sat-nav instructed. Then a short time later: "Turn left."

Sean turned the old van onto a narrow, winding road, trying to ignore a headache the sun strobing through the trees was beginning to give him.

"You have reached your destination," the sat-nav said in a self-satisfied tone.

Sean looked at the two high, black enamelled, scrolled gates in front of the van and frowned. "What now? They look locked to me."

"Hang on a sec." Evan manoeuvred his huge body out of the tiny van. It rose up on its suspension when he got out.

Sean watched his friend walk over to one of the gate columns. He had a slight swagger, his clothes rippling with the movement of his limbs. Evan might be squat, but the muscles he carried would leave a fitness fanatic wide-eyed with jealousy.

Evan wiped his hand over his bald head, studying something when he reached the column. Tilting his head, he pushed a button.

Sean could not hear what was being said, but a moment later the two gates swung open on well oiled hinges. Beyond was a long stoned chipped drive, heading away through dense bushes.

"Looks expensive," Sean said as Evan wriggled his way back into the van.

Evan grunted, trying to clip up his seatbelt.

A few minutes later the van cleared the trees, and they had their first look at Webster's house.

Sean stopped the van, staring through the windscreen. The place was huge. Two wings, both with round turrets. The main house was three stories, with a large white portico at the head of a semi-circular stone staircase.

"Ruddy hell," Evan said in a whisper.

Sean parked the van at the foot of the staircase and got out, looking around at the beautifully manicured lawns.

Evan joined him. "Feel like we should have parked round the back at the tradesman's entrance," he said.

Ignoring his friend's jibe, Sean trotted up the stairs to the front door, took a deep breath and rang the bell.

The door opened and Sean's eyes widened. Standing, holding the edge of the door with slender red tipped fingers was the most outstanding woman he had ever seen.

Sean's gaze travelled slowly over her body: slim and busty; blond hair framing a perfect face.

Her hazel eyes studied him for a moment, and then moved on to Evan. She smiled. Her bright red lips glistening in the sunlight.

Evan pushed forward, holding out his beefy hand. Hers was lost in it, but she didn't seem to care, bringing her other hand on top of his.

"Hi," Evan said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as he gazed up into her face. "You're tall."

The woman nodded, a serious look on her face. "Two metres in my heels," she replied softly. "Can I have my hand back now, please?"

Sean saw the flush run up Evan's face and nudged him.

"Oh yeah. Right," Evan said, still holding her hand. "Sorry."

The woman's giggle sent a shiver up Sean's back. "Evan." He nudged his friend again. "The hand?"

Evan finally released the woman's hand.

"So, how can I help you gentlemen?" As she talked, she fiddled with a thin gold chain round her neck.

Sean tried not to look at her neck. Looking anywhere below her chin would be a dangerous move. "We're looking for Donna Webster," he said.

"Well you found her."

"Ah yes. Well it's about your husband, Mrs Webster. He came––" Sean stopped, grabbing at his ankle. Turning he glared at Evan, not quite believing his friend had kicked him.

"Look, I'm sorry about my mate here. He's got a problem. He sees things." Evan patted Sean on the shoulder. "He's not dangerous or anything. Just a little––" Evan tapped the side of his head.

"About my husband, you said?"

"Yes, your husband," Sean replied.

A slight frown creased Donna's forehead. "But he's dead."

"Yes, we know. That's why we're here. You see, your husband asked me to––" Sean clutched his ankle again. "Will you please stop doing that, Evan? What the hell's got into you?"

Evan gave a dumb smile. "I think we should go now. We don't want to upset the lady, do we?"

"You saw Brodie? When?"

Sean put some distance between himself and Evan before answering.

"This morning," he said, quickly throwing Evan a warning look.

Evan sighed and shrugged at Donna.

"No, its okay," she said. "You'd better come in and tell me what this is all about."

"Really?" Evan asked, his voice full of uncertainty.

"Yes. Come on, this way."

***

The hallway was immense, with two wood-panelled staircases sweeping up to the first floor. Donna led them across a thick carpet to a door off to one side of the hall.

"Let's go and sit in the round room," she said. "It's my favourite. I've made it my own over the years."

Sean and Evan entered the room, which was indeed circular. The ceiling was two floors high, decorated in tiny white, square panels. The windows were as tall, following the curve of the walls. Sean hated to think how much a room like this must cost to heat during the winter months.

"Would you like some coffee? Tea perhaps?"

"No thanks," Sean said.

Evan just shook his head, tongue-tied.

Donna smiled, indicating they should sit down on a nearby couch. It groaned a little as Evan sat down and Sean hoped it wouldn't collapse.

Donna sat opposite on a spindly looking armchair and crossed her hands in her lap. "So you were explaining about Brodie," she said.

"Brodie?" Evan asked.

Donna gave him a sweet smile and nodded. "Brodie Webster. My husband?"

Evan shifted uncomfortably. "Well, about that," he began.

Sean placed a hand on Evan's knee, cutting him off. "Look Mrs Webster. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I saw your husband this morning. He came to visit me. He wanted help in getting his mother's pendant back."

"Donna. Please, call me, Donna."

"I'm Evan," Evan said quickly. "He's Sean."

Donna nodded hello and stood up, smoothing down her thin red dress. "Will you excuse me a moment please?"

After she had left the room, Evan turned on Sean. "What the hell did you tell her that for? She's probably gone to get someone to throw us out now, you cretin."

"Me? And who is it that's mooning about after her like some heart-struck schoolboy?"

Evan sat back. "Yeah well," he mumbled.

Before either could start again, the door opened and Donna swished back in, holding a newspaper in her hand. Walking over she sat down, then leaning forward, laid out the paper on the glass coffee table between them.

Sean sat forward, turning the paper so he could read the headlines.

Patient escapes from the Maudsley Hospital. Not to be approached by the public.

The full article went on for some time, explaining how the patient, one Sean Baker, was suffering from hallucinations. He was talking to a non-existent man named Webster, and although not thought to be dangerous, should the public spot him they were advised to ring Scotland Yard and not approach him themselves.

"You're a medium. You converse with the other world?"

Donna's voice cut across Sean's thoughts and he looked up from the newspaper.

"Well not exactly. Just with your husband."

"Yes, I thought I recognised you from the photo in the paper there."

"So, we'll go then, shall we?" Evan asked, disappointment lending his voice a gravelly tone.

"No, not at all," Donna said. "I invited you in because Sean is just the sort of person I'm looking for." She paused for a moment. "You see, I too am having trouble with Brodie. Since he died, he randomly keeps appearing and disappearing. It's really very distressing. Especially when he threatens me."

Evan half–stood. "He threatened you?"

"Don't concern yourself Evan. He can't actually harm me physically. It's just . . . so upsetting."

Evan settled back down again.

Sean felt the couch give a shiver and held his breath.

"We have your cat," Evan suddenly blurted out.

"You have? Oh, that's marvellous." Donna gave Evan a dazzling smile, and he seemed to grow bigger if that was possible.

"Shall I go and get it for you?" Evan stood up.

Donna rose and took one of his hands in hers. "Oh, that would be so nice of you, Evan. I thought I'd lost him. Brodie keeps trying to kick him whenever he appears.

Evan seemed to have grown taller too. "I'll go and get him then."

The sloppy big grin told Sean that his friend had fallen hopelessly in love.

"While you do that, I'll go and arrange some tea," Donna said, still holding onto Evan's hand.

Sean shook his head as they headed out the door. Then picking up the newspaper he read through the article again.

***

Growing impatient, Sean decided to go and find out what was taking Evan so long. Leaving the room, he looked round the hall. A black leather studded door on the far side caught his attention. He had seen such doors in films of course, and they always had dark secrets hidden behind them.

Sean felt a strange urge to go and see what was on the other side of this particular door.

Unable to resist and knowing he would probably regret it, Sean walked across to the door and turned the big brass handle. It opened quietly, not with the big squeal he had expected.

Taking a deep breath, Sean looked inside.

The room was high and square, lined from floor to ceiling with shelves. A long stepladder, attached to a bar running round the circumference, ran from the floor to the ceiling. The whole room was filled with thousands of books.

The only wall not lined with books was dominated by a large stone fireplace. Arranged in front of this stood a red leather couch and two armchairs, with small brass studs outlining the edges of the curved arms.

An aroma of beeswax filled Sean's nostrils.

Sitting in one of the armchairs, a malevolent smile of his lips, was Webster.

### Chapter 11

Humming to himself, Evan skipped down the front stairs to the drive. He felt as if he was walking on air. Never before had anyone made such a positive impact on his senses. The sky was bluer; the sun brighter; his heart lighter.

Reaching the path, he stopped for a moment, staring at the ground. Was this what love felt like? A shudder went through his body at the realisation that, yes, he was hopelessly in love with Donna. But even as the thought brought a smile to his lips, it brought a frown to his face. A woman like Donna could never feel anything for an oaf like him.

No, just put the thought aside for what it was. Ridiculous.

Opening the rear doors of the van, Evan leant in and dragged out a cardboard box. A paw unexpectedly shot out from the loosely tied lid, catching him on the cheek, ripping down his flesh, leaving bloody cuts. Slapping his hand to his face, Evan dropped the box, which hit the ground with a dull thud. Quick as a flash, the cat squirmed out, running towards the side of the house.

All thoughts of Donna leaving his mind, Evan took off after the bolting feline.

Rounding the side of the house he spotted the cat sitting on top of a rickety looking fence, cleaning its face with a paw.

"Come on pussy. Come to Uncle Evan."

The cat stopped its cleaning, paw still half-raised. If it could have spoken, Evan knew just what it would have said, and it wasn't, 'Okay, Uncle Evan, I'm coming.'

Moving closer, Evan took a sudden flying leap at the cat, arms outstretched.

The cat trotted along to the next fence panel, smugly watching as Evan hit the fence with a resounding thwack. Giving up the unequal struggle the fence panel collapsed and Evan's momentum took him a few steps forward, where he found himself teetering on the edge of a large garden pond, arm wheeling in the air as he tried to stop himself falling in.

A gigantic carp stared up at Evan, but with a flick of its tail, scooted clear just as he hit the water, sending a huge wave to the far side of the pond. Coughing and spluttering, he hauled himself out, dumping two big water-lily leaves back where they belonged.

Finally able to breath, Evan looked around.

The cat had done a disappearing act.

***

Donna pottered about in the kitchen getting the tea ready, humming to herself. Placing a teapot, cups, saucers and a plate of biscuits on a tray, she picked it up. Then, putting it down again, she turned and leant back against the kitchen counter, head held high, thinking.

There was something about that man, Evan, that sort of caught at her; felt a bit special. She hadn't had that feeling for a long, long time now. Not since meeting Brodie at the Havana nightclub all those years ago.

Shrugging, Donna picked up the tray again and made her way across the kitchen. She had just reached the door when a loud knocking caught her attention. Turning back she saw Evan standing at the double French windows leading into the garden, looking very forlorn and very, very wet.

Quickly plonking the tray on the table, Donna walked over and opened the door, trying her best not to laugh. "What an earth happened? I thought you went to get the cat."

Evan looked downcast. "I did. It got away and I chased it, and sort of . . . fell into the pond."

"You fell into the pond!" Donna finally gave way to a fit of the giggles, but seeing the hurt look in Evan's eyes, she quickly pulled herself together.

"Tell Sean I'll wait in the van for him, will you please? I don't want to get your kitchen all muddy."

"No don't be silly. Come in, take those wet things off and I'll see to them for you. Come on, come in."

Evan hesitated, and then seemed to make his mind up. Nodding, he stepped in, standing on the large coconut mat placed just inside the threshold. Before he got the doors fully closed the cat squeezed its way through.

"Oh there you are, Tiger. Are you a hungry boy, then? Just wait a minute while I get Evan sorted out, and then I'll get your food for you."

Opening a large cupboard, Donna pulled out a fluffy dressing gown, handing it to Evan. "Sorry but its all that's handy at the moment. Strip off and put it on. There's a shower room at the top of the staircase to the right, in the hall. Leave your clothes here and I'll pop them in the washing machine. While you do that, I'll go see if I can rustle up something more suitable for you to wear."

With that, in a fit of the giggles and a cloud of intriguing perfume, Donna was gone.

Evan found himself alone with the cat. It looked at him, and then meowed loudly, wrapping itself round his legs.

"Get the hell out!" Evan grumbled, hopping about on one leg as he tried to get out of his soggy trousers.

### Chapter 12

"Come in. Sit down. There's something I need you to do for me," Webster said.

"Yeah, you told me already. You want me to get your mother's pendant back for you."

"Correct, but right now I want you to keep that thick-headed friend of yours away from my wife. I've seen the way he looks at her, all googly-eyed."

Sean laughed. "Hell, he stands no chance with a looker like her."

Webster narrowed his eyes, flexing his hands, his fingers disappearing into the red leather armchair. "And you can keep your dirty little thoughts to yourself as well!"

Sean shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for thinking."

"As far as your friend goes, don't underestimate his attraction. Donna has always gone for men living on the edge like you two. It's what attracted her to me in the first place. He's just her sort. Edgy, muscular, self-assured."

Sean laughed again. "Self-assured? Ha, that's the last thing he is!"

"Please yourself my friend, but if you took the time to really get to know him, you might be surprised."

"I do know him," Sean protested. "We grew up together."

"And in all that time, who always took the decisions, never giving a thought to what your friend might want?"

Sean huffed. "What makes you the expert all of a sudden?"

Webster shrugged. "Being like this sort of gives you a new perspective on life – or should that be death? Anyway, tell him to stay away from Donna."

"Or what?"

Webster threw a thunderous look. "Don't get cocky Sean. I've killed men for less than that."

"Yeah, but now it's you that's dead. No ghost can hurt me, or Evan come to that."

"Don't be so sure. There's more to all this than you could even begin to comprehend."

Thinking about that, Sean decided to play it safe. "So tell me more about this pendant thing. Where is it and how am I supposed to get it back?"

"It's in Scotland. MacKenzie's place. Well protected by his minders. Locked in a safe room along with my diamonds and his stash of gold."

"And just how do you expect us to bust into a locked safe room? Neither of us are safe-crackers."

Leaning forward, Webster looked around before continuing in a guarded tone. "That's why you're going to need help from the Gremlin."

***

Stepping out of the shower, Evan wrapped a large towel round his waist. He felt good. Opening the shower-room door, he walked into the corridor.

"Hello?" he called. "Anyone there?"

"Down here," Donna's voice answered from further along the corridor.

Clutching the towel tightly, Evan walked along the soft shag-pile until he reached an open doorway. Peering in, he saw Donna sitting on a large bed, a pile of clothes beside her. Standing up she smiled.

"Here," she said, indicating the clothes. "see if any of these fit you. I'll go and check how your things are doing."

Evan rummaged through the pile, which obviously belonged to Webster. The man seemed to have been of a similar build, but somewhat taller than Evan. The trousers hung long and he had to roll them up. He was looking for somewhere to put the wet towel when the door opened again.

"I'll take that," Donna said with a wide smile.

Evan looked down at himself and gave his own grin.

"Hang on," Donna said. "You've got one leg up and one leg down." Walking over she knelt down, adjusting the trouser leg.

Evan looked down, taking the tiniest lock of her hair between his fingers. It felt soft, like the towel he had just used. Holding his fingers to his nose he caught the scent of summer fields and new mown grass. He was about to speak when a sudden coldness flooded over him.

Donna unexpectedly stood up, a look of disgust distorting her face.

Then sitting on the edge of the bed, she gripped the duvet each side of her and closed her eyes. "How dare you?" she almost spat.

"But I was just . . . I mean . . ."

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Donna was now crying gently. "You're a mean, mean man."

She appeared to be talking to someone over Evan's right shoulder. Evan looked around but apart from the two of them, the room was empty.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Evan's voice was soft with concern.

"It's alright. Brodie's gone again now."

"Webster was here?"

Donna nodded. "He saw me kneeling in front of you and — well never mind what he thought. Sit down Evan and let me try to explain what's going on. I know you don't believe in ghosts and things like that. Neither did I until all this happened."

Evan tried seating himself in an antique upright chair beside the bed, but his large frame didn't fit. So he stood again, looking awkward.

"Here," Donna said, "you sit on the bed, and I'll sit in the chair."

They swapped places and Evan waited patiently while Donna composed herself, hoping against hope that she hadn't somehow caught whatever was wrong with Sean.

***

"Get the hell out. Get the hell out right now!" Webster's angry shouts echoed around the high library.

Sean flinched. He had seen Webster flicker out of existence for a moment, to return with anger twisting his features.

"What on earth's happened?" he asked.

"That so called friend of yours and my wife are at it in the bedroom right now."

Sean's eyes widened as the usual soft glow surrounding Webster turned a vivid orange, flecked with a deep, deep blackness.

"I warned you to get him to stay away, didn't I?"

Holding up a placating hand, Sean tried reasoning with the irate ghost. "No, you must be mistaken Brodie. Evan would never do that. I'm sure you misjudged whatever it was you thought you saw."

Webster's aura toned down a little and Sean heaved a silent sigh of relief. He would have to have a meaningful conversation with Evan real soon. If Webster got pissed off and found someone else to get his pendant back – bang went his fortune. Whatever else, Sean had no intention of letting that happen now he had thought of a way to launder the money.

"Look," he said, in a pleasant tone, full of reasonableness. "Don't worry, I'll sort Evan out and keep him away from here, okay? I promise you there'll be no more trouble from him. Now what were you saying about a Gremlin? I've heard about those in fairy books and films. Surely they're just fictional characters though?"

Webster appeared to be in control of himself again. Sitting back, he crossed his hands on his stomach and his legs at the ankles. If it hadn't been for the fact that the heel of one shoe was sunk into the wooden floor, it could have been a scene from any household.

Rubbing his nostrils between a forefinger and thumb, Webster gave a knowing smile. "You'd have thought so, wouldn't you?"

"But?" Sean prompted.

"Just forget everything you thought you knew about this world you live in. Whatever it is, it's wrong. There are other worlds out there my friend, billions of them. And I'm not talking about planets either." Webster chuckled. "No, I'm talking about life in other dimensions. Multi-dimensions."

Chopping his hand to add emphasis, Webster continued in an excited voice. "Slice after slice, after slice, reaching out into infinity. Worlds full of people like us, reborn, different from what we are now, and what we will be in the future." He stopped, taking a deep breath, eyes unfocussed, staring into another place only he could see.

"And that's where you live now?"

"No, that's where I'll exist next, with no memory of this life. The particles that we are, that everything is made of, cannot be destroyed. When we die in one dimension, they remix and pass on to the next dimension, ad-infinitum."

"So that's where you are? I mean when you're not here?"

"No." Clenching his teeth, Webster breathed deeply through flared nostrils for a few moments. "Right now I'm trapped in a place known as the Cusp." Voice trembling he continued. "It's not a nice place Sean. Not nice at all. And that's why I need your help so badly."

***

Looking across at Evan, Donna gave a soft smile. Perched on the edge of the bed, deep blue eyes fixed on her face, he looked like a man in love. She often had this effect on men, especially before she married Webster. Back then, however, it never lasted long because it was usually built on lust.

But this time felt different. Evan really did seem to care about her: deeply and unreservedly. She felt safe when he was around.

"So?" Evan prompted.

The single word brought her back from her musings. Tilting her head, she began speaking with a hesitant tone that grew in confidence as Evan showed his interest.

"Before my husband died, he was mixed up in some very nasty things. When we first got together I didn't know about these things: the drugs, prostitution, gambling clubs. When I did eventually find out, it was too late, because by that time we were married."

"Couldn't you have left him?"

"That would have been nice Evan, but Brodie is a vengeful man; a man with a terrible temper. I know of at least one person he nearly beat to death – and I'm sure there were more, many more. All the men working for him were uneasy when he was around. You could see from the way they acted that they were scared of him. How could I leave such a person? He'd have hunted me down. I don't know what he'd have done once he found me, but it wouldn't have been nice, of that you can be sure."

Evan moved to comfort her, but she held up a hand. "No Evan let me finished."

Taking a tissue from a box on the windowsill, she dabbed at her eyes, and then sat twisting it between her fingers staring at the floor. Finally, she gave a soft sigh.

"Something went wrong at the last drug drop-off. Webster's men were stopped on the motorway and his drugs taken by somebody called MacKenzie. I think Brodie was using a beach for the deliveries that MacKenzie had claimed for his own drops or something like that. Anyway, this man took Brodie's drugs." She stopped for a moment, her expression evidence of her fear. "I've never seen anyone so angry before, Evan. He rampaged round the house, shouting and swearing about how he was going to kill MacKenzie. I believed him. I really did. It was terrifying."

Donna was grateful that the man opposite was giving her the space to talk, to express and own her emotions. It was unusual in the world she inhabited.

"Brodie raided the man's house; stole his safe; got it all. MacKenzie's drug money, plus a lot of his drugs. Brodie was over the moon. Like a small boy in a chocolate factory." Donna paused, thinking back.

"So what happened?"

"He didn't count on MacKenzie's reach. A few weeks later, in the middle of the night, they came to the mansion. Six of them. Dragged us out of bed, knelt us down and threatened to rape me if Brodie didn't open his safe. As you know, he's an extremely jealous man, but even so it was touch and go for awhile, until finally two of them stretched me out on the bed, pulling at my night clothes. That's when he relented.

"Brodie's safe is hidden behind a panel next to the en-suite bathroom. I'd never seen it before and was surprised by how big it was. It was huge. The men emptied it in a few minutes. They took everything in there. Brodie's diamonds, a stack of cash, and lots of paperwork.

"He stood to one side while they did so, fuming. But it wasn't until someone reached inside and took out the last item that he said anything. 'Not that,' he said in a quiet, menacing tone. 'Leave that.' The man looked at him, and then opened the box. Inside was an old pendant.

"That pendant meant all the world to Brodie. It had belonged to his mother. He'd bought it for her with his first pay packet after leaving school. It cost him every penny he'd earned that first month. She adored it. Wore it round her neck until the day she died, only taking it off to go to bed and bathe."

Donna smiled, remembering the sad look on Brodie's face whenever he talked about his mother. "She died when their house burnt down. By that time she was bed-ridden and couldn't get out. All that was left were some charred bones, her wedding ring – which Brodie gave to me on our wedding day – and that pendant. It had somehow survived when his mother hadn't."

### Chapter 13

Evan fidgeted on the kitchen chair, trying to get comfortable. Most ordinary chairs were a touch too high for him and his feet didn't quite reach the floor. He always ended up with his butt uncomfortably balanced on the edge of the chair. At home he had sawn a couple of inches from the legs of his favourite chair but had not got around to suggesting this to Sean yet.

"You still with us?"

Evan smiled and nodded. "I was just thinking about your chairs."

Sean frowned. "Look mate, never mind the bloody chairs, there's more important things at stake right now."

Evan knew just what his friend meant. His talk with Donna had convinced him ghosts really did exist – even if he couldn't see them. After all, the alternative was to admit Donna and Sean were both seeing things. Sean maybe, but Donna? No way!

"Look Evan, I know you've got the hots for Donna, but you've really got to cool it down."

Evan couldn't help but laugh at Sean's dramatic statement. "I haven't got the hots for her, as you put it. Well not exactly anyhow. I really like her, sure. And I think she likes me a bit too, at least I hope so. You know I've got a real, good feeling about this."

"Whatever."

Evan didn't like the flippant manner in which Sean was treating his feelings. "Look Sean, with respect, what goes on between Donna and me is really none of your ruddy business."

He rarely spoke to Sean in such an abrupt manner and could see the shock in his friend's eyes.

"You couldn't be more wrong mate," Sean snapped. "I don't know what you two were getting up to in the bedroom but Webster nearly blew a gasket when he saw you."

Evan thought about that. "Apart from the fact that we weren't getting up to anything, Webster's dead and I ain't afraid of no ghost, however angry he might be."

"Please Evan, just––"

Evan felt his temper rising. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Sean nodded slowly. "Okay, fair enough. Well just let me try and explain what this is all about then."

***

Outside the flat, Webster swore when he heard Evan declare his interest in Donna – and that bastard Sean hadn't tried too hard to put him off either. In fact the little turd hadn't tried at all! Feeling the heavy weight of his cosh back in his hand, he glanced down. It was glowing a cherry red.

Strange.

Listening in again, Webster's temper rose another notch when Evan tried dissuading Sean from helping him.

"What the––" Webster finally lost it altogether when he glanced down and saw a pigeon pecking at his foot. Even though it was pecking the ground and not his actual foot, Webster shivered. He hated those God awful flying rats with a vengeance.

Swiping at it with his cosh, which unexpectedly flared a vivid violet, Webster frowned when the pigeon threw its head back, shivered violently and fell to the ground.

Holding up his cosh, Webster touched the end. A slight vibration tickled his fingertips. Looking closely, he could just make out something swirling about inside the cosh's semi-transparent outline.

Damn, will you just look at that?

A sudden understanding swept over Webster and he tentatively touched the end of the cosh to the bird's head. This time the pigeon twitched a couple of times, staggered to its feet, and then rather unsteadily, flew off.

Webster smiled, then chuckled, then laughed loudly. Yes, this was the lever he needed to keep those two blockheads in line.

Turning away from the flat, Webster transported himself back to his mansion. All he needed now was to get them to put in an appearance together right here. Then he'd be home and dry.

***

"You're crazy, you know that!"

Sean felt a little aggrieved at his friends outburst. "No Evan, listen. Yes, it's true that this MacKenzie guy installed a new safe room and surveillance system after Webster nicked his safe, but –"

"And infiltrated his place with an army," Evan added.

"Well yes, it's also true he's got a couple of his guys keeping an eye on the place as well."

"A couple. Huh." Evan snorted in disgust.

"Look, just listen will you? Webster has a plan to get us in."

"Yeah, I'm sure he has." Evan took a deep breath, shook his head, and then sighed. "Okay then," he conceded. "Tell me about this marvellous ruddy plan of his. But before you start, this doesn't mean I'm necessarily going to go along with it, understand?"

Sean was suddenly reticent about sharing the plan with his friend, knowing it might tip him over the edge. Rubbing his finger round a teacup stain on the table, he considered how best to go about it.

"Gremlins," he finally muttered under his breath.

Evan burst out a short laugh. "And that's his great plan, is it? Gremlins. Bloody hell Sean, have you gone totally nuts?"

Holding up a placatory hand, Sean pushed on. "Okay I know it sounds a bit off, but just let me explain."

"Be my guest."

Sean could see Evan was nearing the end of his patience and knew he had better make this good, before his friend upped and left.

"You believe Donna sees her husband, even though he's dead, right?"

Evan's nod was just perceptible, the frown more so. "Maybe. Sort of."

"Okay, good. Because let me assure you, Evan, according to Webster there's a lot more things out there other than ghosts. Honestly, believe me mate, he's seen them."

Evan raised an eyebrow.

"It's true. When I was with Webster, when he was explaining his plan." Sean paused a moment, licking dry lips. "He called in a gremlin."

Evan said nothing, just kept looking at him, both eyebrows raised.

When his friend didn't get up and leave, Sean hurried on. "What do you know about gremlins?" Sean blurted out.

When Evan just shrugged, Sean began to explain, hoping Evan wouldn't laugh in his face.

"Well, as it was explained to me, gremlins are spirits of tools and machinery. They are friendly and usually help the household out, but if people begin taking the credit for the mechanical things the gremlins help them build or look after, they naturally get the hump. If that happens then they only visit occasionally, just to get their own back by making things round the place breakdown. Most houses have a Gremlin off and on. They enter inside a piece of equipment. You know, a washing machine, a TV, something like that."

"And?" Evan asked, his voice full of boredom.

Well at least Evan hadn't laughed yet.

Encouraged, Sean rushed on. "So, as I said, Webster called in this gremlin to help us get passed the security system and into the safe-room."

"Just like that?"

Nodding excitedly, Sean pushed his point home. "Yes, don't you see Evan? Gremlins are expert at this kind of thing. It'll get us in, no problem."

Sean kept to himself the fact that the gremlin would expect something for its trouble – a big something – but he'd deal with that later. He didn't want to chance getting Evan skittish.

His plan didn't work though, because Evan was already skittish.

Shaking his head, Evan looked at Sean, a sadness filling his eyes that conveyed more than words. "Your ruddy crazy, you know that? Far more than I ever imagined." Evan shook his head even harder. "Utterly mad. And even though you had me half-convinced with all this bullshit about ghosts, you can count me out. We can't spend money when we're dead, Sean. And that's just what we will be if we take on a houseful of seasoned gangsters. Ask Webster, because that's just what happened to him!"

"But Evan, please. I can't do this alone. I need your help."

"Yeah. You, me, and some buck toothed lizard from a sci–fi movie."

"For God's sake Evan, will you cut it out?" Sean checked round the room, but fortunately the gremlin wasn't around. "It'll be a piece of cake. I promise you. You'll see. Trust me."

"No. Besides what the hell are we going to do with ten million? Even if we got away with it, we'd be on the run for the rest of our lives."

"I've got an idea about that Evan. Come on mate, have I ever let you down?"

"Constantly."

Rubbing his face, Sean gave in. He knew how stubborn Evan could be when he had made up his mind about something.

Oh well, guess it's back to old ladies and séances then!

Pulling out his mobile, Sean texted Donna, asking her to tell Webster that his plan was a no-go.

### Chapter 14

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Webster paced back and forth in his library, his aura oscillating wildly.

The gremlin cocked an eyebrow – at least it would have, had it one. It studied the human with interest. It had seen untold humans come and go over the aeons and undoubtedly it would see many more – unless . . .

"There might be another way," the gremlin said, one of its long ears flicking at a fly buzzing round its head.

Webster stopped pacing and watched his guest. The gremlin cut an imposing figure. Although only a tad over a metre tall, the wide shoulders and slender waist gave it a squat, powerful look. The blue, sunken eyes, with their golden lids staring back at him added an exotic appearance each time it blinked.

Swatting at the fly again with its other wide, triangular, long floppy ear, the gremlin smiled. It finally caught the fly with one unusually shaped hand. Webster was impressed, given that the hand – along with its feet – had only two digits, plus an opposing thumb, all topped off with short, curved, claws.

The gremlin held the fly up, studying it, watching the small insect struggling to get free. "Interesting," it said, then popped the fly into its mouth.

It smiled again, and Webster saw a black smudged on one of its pointy teeth. Swallowing back the bile that suddenly pushed up into his mouth, Webster smiled back.

"So . . . er . . . gremlin––"

"Lenny. You may call me Lenny."

Webster frowned. "Lenny? That's a strange name for a gremlin to have."

"You wouldn't be able to pronounce my given name, human."

"Fair enough. You were saying something about there being another way?"

The Gremlin walked nearer, studying Webster's aura, which was now shimmering with pale yellow. "You haven't much time left," it stated.

Webster glanced at his aura, then back at the gremlin, confusion lining his face. "Time left for what?"

Pursing its lips, which caused its deep, domed top lip to protrude in the most alarming manner, the gremlin slowly nodded. "I see you don't know then." Pointing at Webster's chair, it told him to sit.

Webster reluctantly did so. When the gremlin just stood looking at him, Webster waved his hand. "Get on with it then. I haven't got all bloody day."

"No," agreed the gremlin, "you certainly haven't. Just a few hours if I'm not mistaken."

Leaning forward, a worried look on his face, Webster tried ignoring another fly that had landed on the Y shaped ridge topping the gremlin's forehead.

Where the hell were all these damned flies coming from?

"What exactly are you getting at . . . Lenny?" Webster was having trouble calling such a strange looking creature by that moniker.

"The universe is not a singular dimension," the gremlin said in a lecturing tone. "It's a multiverse, from which the particles making up the essential you pass through each time you die."

"Okay," Webster agreed, "I'd sort of figured that much out. And the pendant, that's what's holding me here, right?"

Shaking its head, the gremlin dislodged the fly, which now began buzzing round Webster's head. Much to his dismay the gremlin unexpectedly darted in, catching the fly with its long, wet pointed tongue, showering Webster with splats of saliva.

"No," the gremlin answered after a few moments of chewing, "not here. Back in the Cusp. The place between this dimension and the next. As long as you are in the Cusp, you can move between there and here, but not to the next dimension. At least not until you untangle yourself from this pendant. Then you can pass on."

"So what's the problem? Once I get my hands on the pendant, game over, yes?"

"Two things. The first is you only have a limited time in the Cusp before it begins changing you. Eventually, it will rearrange your particles, and you will become something else."

"Like you, you mean?"

"Or a ghoul, maybe a troll. There are thousands of different creatures living in the Cusp, if you can call it living. Your time is running out, and you need to get moving."

Webster worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, not liking the thought of what would happen should his time run out.

"So what can I do? Those two idiots have done a runner on me and from what you say there isn't time for me to find another medium, or whatever the hell he is."

"Give me your cosh."

Webster held out his hand. The gremlin took the cosh from him, holding it close to its face, studying it. Finally, it ran the tip of one claw along the length. "Yes, I think this might work."

Before Webster could say anything, the gremlin tipped back its head and swallowed the cosh in one gulp. Webster was halfway to his feet in rage when the gremlin stopped him with a warning gesture.

Sitting back Webster watched, fascinated, as the gremlin regurgitated the cosh. It rose from its wide open mouth like a fish rising from the deep, and with a final thrust, toppled out onto the wooden floor with a wet smack. It glowed under the harsh overhead lights.

The gremlin was now doing something weird to its jaws, rearranging them somehow. Feeling queasy again, Webster tried not to look.

Giving one last punch to the side of its face, the gremlin nodded. "I've entangled it with some of my particles. Hopefully, it should now be powerful enough. Can you find some way of getting the medium and his friend over here tonight?"

Webster stood up, a wide smile on his face. "Oh, I think I've got just the way to do that my friend."

Picking up his cosh, Webster headed for the lounge, a spring in his step and a hum on his lips.

***

"You okay mate? You've gone all pale. Looks like you've seen a bloody ghost. Oops, sorry. Bit offensive that, in the circumstances." Sean chuckled. "So who was on the phone then?"

Evan tapped his mobile off and slipped it into his pocket. "Won't be a sec," he said, getting up from his chair with a grunt.

Sean could see how angry his friend was by his clenched teeth and hunched shoulders. "What's up then?" he persisted.

Evan didn't answer straightaway, but was soon back, shrugging on a padded coat. Patting his pockets, he checked he had his keys. "That was Donna. Webster's been torturing her cat. The bastard's got her in tears. Poor girl's sobbing her heart out."

Sean stood and joined Evan by the door. "But I thought he couldn't be in physical contact with anything in the real world."

"Something must have changed then, because he sure can now. I'm going round there to sort him out, one way or the other."

"Hang on, I'm coming with you." Sean was worried that it had something to do with the gremlin, because if that was the case, Evan might be walking into more trouble than he could handle.

Plucking his own coat from the hook in the hall, Sean followed Evan out of the flat door.

***

"For God's sake take it easy Evan. You'll get done for speeding if you don't slow down." Sean gripped the car door handle even tighter as his friend took another corner with squealing tyres.

Evan responded by putting his foot down even harder and Sean began to sweat as he watched the speedometer climb to eighty mph. Hunching down in his seat he clenched his teeth and watched the passing traffic through slitted eyes, waiting for the inevitable moment when they both joined Webster as ghosts.

Slamming on the brakes, Evan pulled back in behind an old motorhome he was about to pass. The big lorry travelling towards them flashed its headlights and sounded its horn. Evan's small car was buffeted in the wind as the lorry swished past. Pulling out again, he floored the accelerator and passed the motorhome.

"Better slow down, it's the next on the right."

"I know."

Sean gritted his teeth and held on for grim death when Evan drifted the car round the tight bend onto a narrow country lane.

Evan wasn't concerned with danger right then, nor the grunts and swearing coming from the man sitting beside him. All he cared about, as he manoeuvred the car through the sparse traffic at breakneck speed, was getting to the mansion and consoling Donna.

Pulling the car round two cyclists, he nodded when Sean pointed through the windscreen at a break coming up in the high, stone wall on their right.

"See it," he said, bringing the car to a sliding halt just a metre from the black gates, smiling to himself at the huge sigh of relief Sean gave. Jumping from the car he pressed the button on the remote speaker.

"Thank goodness. Is that you, Evan?" Donna's sweet voice issued from the grill.

"Yes, quick let us in."

As Evan ran back and jumped in the car, the gates swung open. Spraying stones from the rear wheels, he fishtailed the vehicle onto the drive and headed for the house, finally pulling up in front of the stone staircase, leaving two long gouges in the immaculately keep driveway.

### Chapter 15

The gremlin waited patiently, unlike the ghost that was pacing back and forth like a demented demon. It had been fun watching it prod the cat with its club over and over again but now the gremlin was getting bored.

The stupid cat creature had hissed and clawed, unable to do anything to stop the pain being inflicted on it, until eventually it had jumped onto the human female's lap and curled up, throwing malevolent looks at its tormentor.

"Please Brodie, don't hurt Tiger anymore. I'll do what you want and ring Evan to come over. Just stop. Please."

"Do it now then. No more messing about, okay?" Webster ordered.

The gremlin was oddly satisfied at the tears pouring down the female's cheeks. Over the years it had forgotten what it was like to cry.

***

Relief flooded through Donna when she heard the gate buzzer sound. Holding the trembling cat against her shoulder, she crossed to the wall and pushed the speaker button. "Thank goodness. Is that you, Evan?"

"Thank goodness. Is that you, Evan?" Webster mocked from beside the fireplace.

Doing her best to ignore the cutting remark, Donna pressed the gate lock release. She, like the cat, was trembling now. Having seen what Brodie's club could do, she was already regretting calling Evan, worried that he might be the next victim. She needed to warn him not to come in.

When the front door bell rang, Donna headed for the hall to answer it, jumping when she unexpectedly found Brodie standing in her way.

"Leave Tiger here with us like a good girl," he ordered, a wicked grin plastered across his smug face.

Hurrying out to the hall, Donna ran to the front door, flinging it open.

Evan bounded in as soon as the door cleared the frame, gathering her up into his arms and swinging her round.

"Are you hurt? Tell me you're not hurt. If he's so much as touched one precious hair on your head, I'll ruddy well kill him."

"He's already dead," Sean whispered, looking round the hall with trepidation.

Evan dropped Donna back on her feet, holding her at arm's length so he could examine her.

Donna had never felt so loved and safe in her whole life. Right then this man was all that mattered. She had to warn him to get away while he could. But before she could say anything, Evan bounded across the hall to the lounge and threw open the door.

"Where are you? Are you in here, you cretin?"

***

"Don't worry, I'll get him," Sean told Donna, following Evan across the hall.

Entering the lounge, he saw his friend standing in the middle of the room, hands stiff by his side, turning slowly, searching for Webster. Had the man not already been dead, Sean knew that by now, he would have been a bloody mass at Evan's feet.

"Sean, is he in here? Can you see him?"

Walking up behind Evan, Sean laid his hands on his friend's shoulders. "Yes Evan, he's here, but you can't do anything." He could feel the tension building in Evan's shoulders.

"Where is he, point me in his direction?

"Evan––"

"Do it!"

A chuckle sounded from across the room and Sean looked at Webster, standing beside a huge fireplace, a sneer on his face. Next to him was the Gremlin, busy chewing on something. Sean was sure he could smell a faint whiff of evil pervading the room.

Turning his friend slowly, Sean stopped when Evan was facing Webster. "There you go, but you won't be able to hear or see him."

"Don't matter," Evan said. "You, Webster," he shouted across the room. "Come here and face me like the man you once were."

Sean held his breath as Webster walked across the room. The man stopped a few centimetres from Evan.

"Is he here?"

"Uhuh." Sean moved Evan's head so he was eye to eye with Webster, worried by the self-satisfied look on the ghost's face.

Webster was obviously up to something. Glancing over at the Gremlin, Sean shuddered when the creature began chewing on another fly it had caught from somewhere.

"So what does this knight-in-shining-armour, come to rescue the damsel-in-distress, have to say for himself?"

"Webster wants to know what you want," Sean said softy in Evan's ear.

Unexpectedly Evan spat a big gob of phlegm towards where he judged Webster's face to be. The Gremlin shook its head at the useless gesture, looking around for some more flies.

However, Webster felt the insult for what it was, and it cut deeply into his pride. Swinging the club, he caught Evan alongside his chin.

Evan grunted, shaking his head in confusion.

Webster followed up with a downward stroke on top of his skull.

Evan stood stock still for a moment, then fell to his hands and knees.

"You pig, what have you done!" Donna flew across the room, dropping to her knees beside Evan.

Evan took a long look at Donna, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Oh don't worry," Webster said to Sean nonchalantly. "He's not dead. At least, not yet. And he won't be if you do your job right."

Sean stared back at Webster, heart beating wildly. "What have you done? What's wrong with him?"

Holding up the cosh, Webster waved it in front of Sean's face. "I've entangled his mind inside here. You have approximately three––" checking with the Gremlin, Webster waited for a confirming nod before continuing, "––three days to get my pendant back, or your buddy here slips into an unrecoverable, life-long coma. Your choice."

### Chapter 16

Closing the laptop, Sean sat back, waiting while the printer did its work. Picking up the map and instructions, he checked the total journey time to MacKenzie's lodge.

Eleven and a half, maybe twelve, hours. Possibly longer with a few driving breaks.

After all, he would need to recover when he got there. Opening the laptop again, he searched Airbnb for a suitable out-of-the-way bed for the night.

Checking the time Sean sighed. It had been a long night. The ambulance crew had taken ages to come, and the tests at the hospital, hours longer. Finally, the doctors admitted they had no idea why Evan had fallen into such a deep coma.

Unfortunately Sean was in no position to tell them why, because the last thing he wanted was to end up sectioned again.

All through the long wait, Webster had constantly prodded Sean to get on with the heist, telling him time was slipping by, along with any chance of his friend's recovery.

Finally, convinced the hospital was unable to do anything to help Evan recover, other than keep him alive, Sean hugged Donna, thanked her for staying by his friend's side and left for home.

Going to the back of his wardrobe, Sean dug out a large backpack and threw in a change of clothes and some dark things to wear when he committed the robbery. Even thinking about it brought a heaviness to his spirit. If he was caught by MacKenzie's men, he would likely end up in hospital next to Evan, with a broken limb or three – if not dead.

And suppose he got away with it, but the police go involved, he might well end up in prison for a few years. Neither result brought peace of mind.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Sean unplugged the mobile charger from the wall socket and dumped it in the rucksack, along with a few packets of crisps to eat along the way. Checking he had turned off all the lights, he closed and locked the front door, slipped the rucksack on his shoulder on one strap and headed for the car.

After dumping his rucksack on the back seat, Sean set up the sat-nav, started the engine, slipped the car into gear and began the long drive. It was going to be mind numbingly long, and he was not looking forward to it, even less so when he thought of what he would have to do after he got there.

***

Imps are small, attractive creatures. Lonely in character, they are always searching for attention. Their behaviour is often wild, but with a sense of free spirit and enjoyment of all things fun. Most of the time the pranks they pull are harmless, but sometimes can be upsetting and harmful, such as switching babies or leading travellers astray in places with which they are not familiar. Even if the imp is successful in getting the friendship it seeks, it often still plays pranks and jokes on its friend, either out of boredom or simply because this is their nature.

This particular imp, Eenia by name, was sitting on one of the broad, drooping leaves of Sean's paddle plant, her small hands gripping its red tinted-edges. She felt sad – she always did when her human left the house – but today she was extra sad.

Eenia had heard the conversation between Sean and the gremlin. She didn't like gremlins. In fact, she hated them all with fervour. They were untrustworthy, furtive brutes, always looking for ways to create chaos about the house. She hated this particular one with a passion, staying out of its way whenever it put in an appearance.

Lenny indeed. Ha, what a stupid name to choose.

Eenia had been really surprised when she discovered that her human could see the gremlin. Now she was hoping that her human would be able to see her as well. Being a bit shy, she had so far put off any face-to-face meeting, preferring to introduce herself to Sean slowly. And it was as well she had, because after hearing the scheme this Webster person and his gremlin had come up with, she needed to think very carefully if she wanted to save her human from their clutches.

Realising that she would have to warn Sean before he got to his destination, Eenia unfurled her dull red wings and took to the air, disappearing into the Cusp with a soft plop, using it as a short cut.

This was a dangerous move, but in the circumstances, one she was willing to take.

***

Eenia rested on top of a tall lamp post, brushing pollen from her long, midnight black hair. The bumper of weeble bugs she had encountered had given her a hard chase, and it was only by skimming through dense undergrowth, that she had managed to outpace them.

Eenia sneezed twice, and then looked around for Sean's car.

Ah, there it was. Right where it ought to be.

In the car, Sean took a sip of his milkshake and a bite from his burger. He was tired. It had already been a long drive and he was only halfway there yet. Taking another mouthful of the soggy meal, he wondered how Evan was doing. Perhaps he should call Donna and find out.

Putting down the burger, he lent to one side, fishing in his pocket for the mobile. Bringing it out, he tapped in Donna's number and put it to his ear.

Damn, no reception.

A loud buzzing caught Sean's attention, and he flicked his hand at his shoulder, thinking it was probably a stray fly left by the gremlin.

It sounded again, much louder this time.

Sean looked around in a panic, because it was sounding just like a hornet to him.

Since being stung by some as a child, he got very antsy whenever they put in an appearance.

"Hey, take it easy!" The voice sounded pleasant, if somewhat alarmed.

After making sure the radio was off, Sean checked the car out, concerned that he might be hallucinating again. But he wasn't, at least he didn't think he was, because the astonishing creature causing the buzzing had flown across and taken refuge on the dashboard.

Pure white skin, the cutest face surrounded with black hair so deep it drew the gaze: there it sat, wearing a short black dress, cinched at the waist, and no shoes. She looked to be about fifteen centimetres tall, slim, small busted, dark red wings furled up her back.

She smiled at him, rather shyly he thought, her golden, silver flecked eyes watching him intently. Sean moved his hand, index finger extended, ready to poke her, to see if she was real or not.

"Don't," she said.

Guiltily dropping his hand back in his lap, Sean tilted his head, noticing her ears for the first time. They were cat like, but very slim and elongated. She smiled again, uncovering small teeth in a wide mouth. Even her black lips looked cute. Sean was captivated and sat unmoving, staring at her.

"My name's Eenia. I'm your house imp."

Sean frowned. "My house imp?"

"Your house imp."

"So I have a house imp?" Sean raised his eyebrows. "Does everybody have a house imp?"

"Yes, and I'm yours."

"I see." Sean lapse into silence again.

After a few moments Eenia leant back on the dashboard, her tiny hands taking her weight, her legs crossed at the ankles.

"So," she said, "I've come to warn you."

"Warn me?"

Eenia buzzed her wings. "Will you please stop repeating everything I say?

Sean nodded, still in somewhat of a daze. "Sorry. It's just––" He gestured at her with his hand.

"Yes, I know. It must be something of a shock for you but get used to it, because from what I hear, you're in for a lot more."

"How so?" Leaning forward, Sean tipped his head, his breath flowing over her, disturbing her delicate wings.

Wriggling her shoulders, Eenia shuffled them back into place. "You can't trust them, Sean. Not the gremlin and not Webster. Especially not Webster."

"I know," Sean replied. "But what choice do I have? Evan's in a coma, and Webster holds the key to his recovery."

"That may be true," Eenia replied in a sombre voice. "but that doesn't mean you can't take some precautions."

"Such as?"

"Once you get the pendant. Whatever you do, don't let the gremlin get its grubby talons on it."

"Is that it?"

"Yes." Getting to her feet, Eenia spread her wings. "I'm going back now, to keep an eye on Evan and Donna for you."

"Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean?"

"It's what we imps do, Sean. Besides, you're my friend."

"I am?"

Sean never heard the imp's answer, because with an impatient buzzing of her wings she had already popped out of sight.

### Chapter 17

Sean had left the A9, turning onto the A838 some time ago. The weather was overcast, the dark clouds hiding the red splash of sunrise.

Even though it was July the outside temperature was far lower than he was used to down South in London. Turning on the car's heater, he wondered whether to stop and get some coffee but he hadn't seen anywhere that looked even close to being a place that provided a traveller with sustenance for miles.

Digging out a packet of crisps, he bit the end of the plastic bag and twisted it. The flimsy bag ripped open, showering the contents down the front of his shirt. The car quickly filled with the sound of cursing and swearing as Sean pulled into a handy lay-by.

Jumping out, he brushed himself off, cleaning the fallen crisps out of the footwell as best he could. Sighing he stretched his back, taking a deep breath before starting to get back in the car.

No wait a minute. Better have a pee while I have the chance.

Pushing into some nearby bushes, Sean began to relief himself, unaware of the creature that was now sitting on the roof of the car.

Smacking its lips, the gremlin ate the crisps it had picked off the ground.

Finished, Sean went back to the car and got in. Carefully opening another packet of crisps, he arranged it on the passenger seat, then released the handbrake and pulled back out onto the road.

"Those things taste like a shundie's testicles boiled in oil."

Sean jumped in shock at the unexpected voice, slamming his foot on the brake. The car fishtailed, and then hit a tree at the side of the road.

Sean was thrown forward, then backward as the steering wheel airbag exploded in his face.

"You okay there?" the gremlin asked, pulling the remains of the airbag from Sean's face. "Gave me a bit of a shock, that thing going off like that, I can tell you."

"Jesus H Christ!" Sean swore. "What the bloody hell are you doing appearing like that out of nowhere? You almost gave me a bloody heart attack."

"Just came to see how you were getting on."

"Get out!" Sean shouted, his voice hoarse with the effort.

Opening the door Sean tumbled out onto the grass, struggling to gain his feet because his legs had gone all wobbly.

"Don't look too bad, considering," the gremlin called from the opposite side of the car.

Walking round, Sean joined the gremlin and they both stood looking at the damage.

"Never mind, you'll be able to get yourself a Lamborghini when you get your hands on all those diamonds."

"Just . . . just bugger off and leave me the hell alone, will you?"

"No need to get all huffy. I was just trying to help."

Placing his hands on his hips, Sean tipped back his head and took a deep breath before answering. "Well you sure as hell have, haven't you? I mean, helped. Look at the front wheel."

"No problem."

Reaching down the gremlin picked up the side of the car with one hand and pushed at the wheel with the other. As he worked on the car a disturbing series of squeaks and squeals issued from underneath it.

Finished, the gremlin dropped the vehicle back on the ground with a satisfied grunt. It bounced on its suspension a few times before coming to a rest.

"There you go. Good as new."

Sean was amazed at the creature's strength, watching open-mouthed as it reached into the car to pluck out the remains of the airbag.

Getting back in, Sean tried ignoring the smell of smoke from the airbag that was now pervading every space, and started the engine.

"See you at MacKenzie's place then," the gremlin shouted, giving a friendly wave goodbye.

"Not if I see you first, you jumped up little toad," Sean mumbled through gritted teeth.

It took at least ten miles before he got back control of his nerves, all the time struggling with the alarming shimmer the car wheels developed if he drove over forty miles an hour.

***

Sean was shattered. It had taken him hours to drive the last leg of the journey at forty miles an hour. Luckily there had been no police around or he would have probably been done for driving too slowly. Tomorrow he would hire a car for the journey back down, but right now he couldn't think of anything other than sleep.

Turning off the shower, Sean pulled aside the curtain, screaming when he was confronted by the gremlin standing just the other side, a soppy big smile on its broad face. Even more flies were buzzing round its head than the last time they had met.

A shout from the next room and a dull thumping on the wall, told Sean just how much his screams were appreciated.

"What do they think this hotel is, a brothel?" a muffled voiced sounded through the wall. With a last double thud, everything went quiet.

Sean picked up a large towel. Wrapping it round his waist, he walked out into the bedroom.

The gremlin was sitting on the bed, nonchalantly scrapping some mud from the bottom of its foot onto the carpet.

"Been scoping out the pad," it said, wiping the bottom of its other foot with the pristine duvet. "Is that right? Scoping out the pad?"

Dropping the towel on the floor, Sean wriggled under the covers and repeatedly kicked the gremlin until it got off the bed. Snuggling down he closed his eyes and sighed.

"What are you doing?" the gremlin asked.

Sean opened one bloodshot eye. "Sleeping. At least I'm trying too. Now will you close the curtains and sod off."

The sound of a lone fly buzzing round the room accompanied Sean's snores as he slept.

He dreamt of glowing coshes, broken limbs, and police cells.

***

"Hey. Hey wake up!"

Sean groaned and opened his eyes, just in time to see the room spinning in an alarming manner.

Seeing that Sean was awake the gremlin tossed him high into the air, where he spun like a top, arms and legs splaying out in all directions.

For the few seconds he was airborne, Sean felt kind of weird, but it didn't last long, because all too soon he landed on the bed with a bang, splitting all the legs off.

"You awake now?" the gremlin's asked.

Rolling off the edge of the bed, Sean got to his hands and knees, trying not to throw up. "What?"

"I said, are you awake now? You humans are so hard to get going in the mornings. Well it's actually early evening, but you know what I mean."

"Early evening?"

"Yeah, you slept all day."

Shaking his head, Sean staggered to his feet and headed for the shower.

"And stay out this time," he ordered, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

"Oo, touchy," the gremlin shouted.

Fifteen minutes later Sean was standing in front of the hotel's reception desk, holding a rather large bill.

"But I don't understand," he complained. "How can it possibly be that much?"

The receptionist studied Sean down the length of his nose and snorted. "If you ask me sir, you're getting off lightly." Snatching the bill out of Sean's hand and smoothing it on top of the desk, he ran a well manicured figure down the list of figures. "Mud covered sheets and carpet, broken bed and soiled mattress. Replacements for the minibar – looks like you used every item in there to me – plus there's a faint smell of smoke about the place, so I think you were smoking in your room, even though this establishment has a no-smoking policy. And lastly, you overstayed your book-out time."

Sean twisted the bill so it was facing him and swallowed hard. Slowly digging out his wallet he prayed there would be enough overdraft left to pay it. Fortunately, there was – just. After paying, Sean stuck the bill in his pocket and turned to leave.

"One moment sir," the receptionist stopped him.

"What?" Sean asked gruffly.

"Would you mind telling me what's with all the flies in your room?"

Turning stiffly, Sean stalked out of the hotel, fuming.

Where was that flyspecked, no good, whisky guzzling gremlin? He had more than a few words he wanted to say to it.

### Chapter 18

By the time Sean reached MacKenzie's place, the light was fading fast. He had stopped off at a pub on the way in the hope of restoring his depleted energy, but more importantly, research MacKenzie's lodge on Google Maps.

MacKenzie owned an old Victorian hunting lodge that had obviously been renovated in recent years. The main house was a two story oblong, and had a central large porch fitted with a solid looking front door. A set of spiralled chimneys, complete with fluted pots, sat on the roof at one end of the building. At the other end was a square, two story tower in front, with a three story circular tower behind. They gave the lodge a rather unbalanced and untidy look.

Dismissing gaining entrance via the chimneys, even though he knew they had sent children up them in the old days, Sean went back to his original plan.

The lodge was located on gently sloping land beside a large boating lake. In fact, from what the gremlin had told him, the north corner of the lodge was only a few metres from the water, and had a rowing boat tied to a large iron hook fixed to the wall.

Having parked the car amongst some bushes behind the country lane running alongside the high drystone wall, Sean donned his dark clothes and found a handy place to climb. He waited, cursing under his breath.

Where the hell was that bloody gremlin? Always around when not wanted. But––

Sean just about managed not to shout in alarm when the bane of his life unexpectedly popped into view in front of him.

"Come on. What're you waiting for?"

"You," Sean growled. "Have you turned off the cameras yet?"

"Yes. Which means they're going to know something's up any second now. I'd get a move on if I was you."

Topping the wall, Sean caught his first look at the lodge. It was bigger than he had expected. Every window was ablaze with light, washing out over the well-manicured drive, lawns and gardens. A dog was barking somewhere on the far side of the building.

Sean suddenly realized, that even in the dark, it would be impossible to approach the place without being seen.

Climbing back down he sat on the ground, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

"Hey, come on back up here."

Looking up, Sean saw the gremlin gesturing at him from the top of the wall.

"It's impossible. I'll be caught before I've got ten metres," Sean complained.

"No, you won't. You've got me to help you, remember?"

"Yeah, that's what worries me the most," Sean muttered with a sigh, standing again.

Climbing back up, he looked over the wall again.

"Look," the gremlin pointed. "See that rowboat? There's a boathouse just round the corner of the lodge. It's got a door into the house and no camera. I can get you inside the place from there."

"Too much light. I'll be seen," Sean complained.

Shooting out his arm, the gremlin nudged Sean off the wall. As he fell, the lights snapped out.

Luckily Sean landed on a soft spot and quickly jumped to his feet, running through the trees until he reached the edge of the lake. It looked big, very big, and Sean wasn't that strong a swimmer.

Stripping off his clothes, he slid into the water in his underpants, suppressing a shout as the coldness crept up his torso.

He had no way of knowing how long the swim took, but by the time he gripped the side of the rowing boat and hid behind its cover, the lights, and he guessed the cameras, had come back on.

Of the gremlin there was no sign.

Pulling himself out of the water onto the grass, Sean reached the end wall of the lodge in a running crouch, stopping there a moment to regain his breath. He was shivering with the cold and knew if he didn't get inside and dried off real soon, he'd find it difficult to keep moving.

The boathouse doors were old, one hanging at an angle from rusty hinges. Slipping inside Sean spotted the gremlin sitting on the edge of the concrete dock, feet dangling in the water, chewing on a fly.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting for ages. And why have you got no clothes on?"

"Because swimming with clothes off was hard enough. Let alone with them on!"

"Swim? But what about the little boat I left for you?"

"What little boat?"

"The one I went to all the bother of hauling over the lake for you." The gremlin appeared to consider the statement for a moment. "Oh, perhaps I forgot to tell you about that?"

If Sean hadn't been shivering so much, he would have gladly walked over and strangled the gremlin – slowly and with relish. Him and his bloody flies.

"I've already opened the door." The gremlin pointed. "The strong room is on the far side of the lodge."

"Figures," Sean grumbled, making his way to the door at the back of the boathouse.

Opening it, he stuck his head through. Beyond was a narrow corridor. The stone walls painted white, the floor slabbed with some kind of stone. The corridor smelt musty, as though riddled with damp.

Stepping into the corridor Sean gasped. The old stone floor was colder than the water, on his bare feet.

The gremlin slipped past him. "This way. Quickly."

Sean followed, rubbing his arms, trying to get some heat back in his body. Not paying much attention to where he was going, he bumped into the gremlin when it suddenly stopped.

"Watch it," the gremlin whispered. "There's a guard at the top of the stairs. Hang on here. I'll go up and distract him so you can get past."

Watching the gremlin mount the stairs, Sean's thoughts spun as he considered what had just happened.

He had actually bumped into the gremlin. Felt its solid body. What was going on? How was that possible all of a sudden?

"Psst!"

Sticking his head round the corner of the staircase, Sean saw the gremlin standing on the topmost step, beckoning. Running up the stairs, trying not to stub his toes, he quickly reached the top, grabbing the gremlin by its wrist.

"Hey," the gremlin said, pulling his arm free.

"I can feel you. Touch you," Sean marvelled. "How's that possible?"

"Because you're getting more entangled with the Cusp."

"Come again?"

The gremlin gave a harsh sigh. "There's no time now. Come on, we haven't got all night. This way."

They spotted no-one on their journey to the far side of the lodge and Sean tried to stop worrying. The gremlin appeared to know what it was doing.

Entering a large, panelled room, the gremlin led Sean to the far side.

"Here." It pointed at a small square of dark glass set in the wall.

Sean saw it was some kind of electronic lock. "Is this the safe room then?"

"Yes. Now hurry up and open it before someone comes."

"What? How? Isn't that what you're here for?"

"There are certain things I can't do in this dimension. This is one of them."

"Great. Now what?"

"Put your palm on that thing and open the door."

Shrugging, Sean placed his hand on the glass. It felt warm. "Now what?"

"Concentrate. Feel the electrons moving around under your hand. Jiggle them."

Sean almost laughed at the suggestion, but then began to feel a strange sensation tickling his palm. Before he knew it, a loud click sounded and a panel swung out from the wall.

"Jesus," he whispered, looking at his hand, then into a room stacked from floor to ceiling with gold bars and bundles of cash. "Hey, look at all this money."

"Never-mind that. Find the pendant. The pendant!"

At the back of the safe-room, two tiers up on a shelf, Sean spotted a small red box. Flicking open the lid he knew he had found what they'd come for. Having nowhere to put the pendant, he took it from the box and hung it round his neck.

Just one more thing. Now where . . . ah yes, there you are, my little beauties.

Hurrying along the shelving, Sean reached a stack of black covered trays at the end. Lifting one, he was rewarded with sparkling rows of diamonds, glittering like they were alive. Drawing in a breath he brushed them with his finger tips.

"Come on, we've got what we came for. Let's get out of here. Now."

"Just a minute. I didn't come all this way to go back empty-handed."

Pulling off his boxer shorts, Sean tied the leg openings together and bundled as many diamonds as possible into the improvised bag. Taking one last, longing look at the cash and bars of gold, he licked dry lips, heart thumping.

"Okay," he said, "let's get the hell out of here."

The trip back to the boathouse went quickly, and Sean was soon jumping into the rowboat, taking care not to injure his uncovered todger in the process. Ditching the painter, he slid the oars into the rowlocks and sat waiting impatiently for the gremlin to do his trick with the lights and cameras. The row back to the other side of the lake went far quicker than his swim out.

Sean was soon recovering his breath at the base of the wall, waiting for the gremlin's okay to climb over.

"Come on. Quickly. They've discovered someone's been in the house. Move it!"

Sean began the climb but quickly found he couldn't both climb and hang onto the diamonds at the same time.

"Hey," he called. "Take this."

Tying the waistband so the diamonds wouldn't fall out, Sean tossed them up to the gremlin. Then swarming up the wall, he jumped over and ran back to the car, desperately praying that nobody would put in an appearance or report seeing a naked man running down the centre of the country lane to the police.

It wasn't until he was dressing that Sean realized the pendant had gone from round his neck. A sudden coldness filled his stomach, and he closed his eyes, thinking hard.

Yes, that had to be it. When he had hung over the top of the wall to jump down, he'd felt a tug at his neck, but in his haste had thought nothing of it. Damn, the pendant must be caught up on the wall.

Out of breath, Sean stopped back at the wall, looking up. Atop sat the smiling gremlin, dangling the pendant from one grimy claw.

"Bingo!" it cried, before disappearing with a chortle.

***

Sean had never felt such a failure in his life. True he had escaped with his shorts full of diamonds, and had managed to dodge MacKenzie's gang by sticking to the back roads, but had also lost the only thing that really mattered to him.

Okay, he was suddenly a very rich man, but that would do little to help save his friend's life – even now hanging on a thread. Also, because he had no cash or credit left, he was stuck with a car that would take forever getting him back home. He couldn't just walk into a car hire firm, plonk down a diamond and demand the latest coupé, could he?

Wiping the single tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, Sean tried not to think about how badly he had let Evan down. Instead, he concentrated on his driving, knowing how grinding the trip back was going to be.

God what a bloody mess. What on earth was he going to tell Donna?

### Chapter 19

"So you see Evan, I've really grown to like you a lot. Maybe even fallen in love with you a little bit."

Who was she kidding? She was deeply in love with the man laying unconscious in the hospital bed beside her.

Donna thought back to how Evan had given his self, maybe even his life if Sean didn't get back soon, to protect her. Nobody had ever done that for her before.

Wiping away the tears, she sniffed. "Oh Evan, why did you do it? He's a terrible man, but I'd rather have stayed with him than have this happen to you."

"Still blubbering then?"

Jumping, Donna span round. She usually sensed when Brodie was around, but this time her thoughts had been tied up elsewhere.

"Get out. You have no right being here," she spat.

"Well, that might well be true my pretty, but Sean's late and if he doesn't get here soon, I'll forfeit my life to the Cusp and your lover-boy here will die. You'll be left with nothing, Donna. Better pray Sean gets here real soon, I'd say."

"You're so despicable." Donna plucked another tissue from the box and stood, looking down at Evan, shoulders shaking as she cried.

"Everything alright in here? I thought I heard shouting."

Turning to the nurse, Donna gave a reassuring smile. "No, it's okay. It was just me talking to Evan. The doctor said it might help."

"Okay then. Don't you want to go home and freshen up a bit?"

"I'll stay here awhile longer, if that's alright."

"Sure, just try and keep the noise down. There are other patients here you know."

"Yes. Yes of course. I'm so sorry. I didn't think I was being that loud."

The door closed and Donna sat back down, holding Evan's big hand between hers. She turned to admonish Brodie again, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, Donna closed her eyes and soon fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Webster had felt the gremlin's return. He didn't know how it worked, just accepted it did. Just as when he was a human, he had accepted that whenever he flicked a switch, the light would come on. He couldn't have explained how a nuclear power plant worked, or how the electricity it produced made the lamp glow – just that it was so. Some things in life – or death for that matter – were best taken for granted.

Back at his mansion Webster faced the gremlin. "Where's Sean? Has he got the pendant?"

"Well, he did have."

"What do you mean, he did have? Why isn't he here with you?"

The gremlin shrugged. "Guess he got held up. Some car trouble, I think."

"But I've almost run out of time. How long is he going to be?"

The gremlin scratched its ear and twisted its lips, appearing to think. Finally, it shrugged. "I have no idea, but I'd guess he'll be back before your time is up – just. But it'll be close. Very, very close."

"But he's got the pendant. Right?"

"Not exactly."

"Well where is it then?"

Sticking out its tongue, the gremlin did a little triumphant dance. Hanging from the end of the long mobile mass of muscular tissue, was the pendant, slowly swaying back and forth.

Swinging his club overhead, Webster made a mad dash towards the gremlin. It stepped aside, chuckling when Webster disappeared through the wall.

Webster appeared again a few seconds later, eyes blazing with hatred.

Side stepping again at Webster's next attack, the gremlin poked a talon into his ear.

Webster dropped to his knees, features twisted in pain.

"That's better my friend. Now listen very carefully." Raising his arm, the gremlin forced Webster to his feet and looked him in the eyes. "You're very new to all this, so this one time I'm going to be very, very patient with you. I'm going to remove my finger now and when I do, you'll behave yourself. Got it?"

Webster mumbled something under his breath and the gremlin withdrew his talon. Heaving a grateful sigh, Webster glared at his tormentor.

"Very good. So you want the pendant from me. Hmm?" At Webster's guarded nod, the gremlin continued. "Well before I got this little beauty, I was going to bargain with the human that I would regain your cosh for him, if he agreed to let me entangle with him when he died. That would release me into the next dimension, trapping him in the Cusp in my place. Everything would still be in perfect balance, so no loss."

"So?" asked Webster in a sulky tone.

"But don't you see? This way is so much better. I'm going to use your pendant to go through right now, instead of having to wait all those years for the human to die. Only trouble is, somebody will have to take my place when I go. Hmm, now who might that be, I wonder?" Stroking the pendant, the gremlin gave Webster a knowing smile and winked. "Such a pretty entanglement. I think I'll give it to the Wraith before I leave. He'll really appreciate the gesture I'm sure. Maybe, if you get it back, you can still move on. Who knows? There's more between heaven and–– Well I'm sure you've heard that saying."

"No, you can't. It's mine! It's mine!" Webster shouted, the fear in his eyes reflecting the terror twisting his black soul. "No, you can't do this to me!"

"Already done my friend. Already done."

Webster suddenly found himself alone, with just a circle of flies merrily buzzing round the spot where seconds before his only hope of leaving the Cusp had stood.

***

"See if you can get her to go home and get some rest. She's been at his side ever since he came in."

Sean frowned at the nurse. "I'll try," he said. "This way?"

The nurse nodded. "Room six. Just down the hall. Would you like me to arrange some tea and biscuits?"

"That would be great. Thanks."

Sean walked down the corridor, nose twitching at the myriad different smells that always seemed to float round a hospital. Reaching room six, he looked through the window in the door. Donna was sitting in a plain looking armchair beside a hospital bed. The sides of the cot were up, the top half of the mattress raised to a comfortable height. Lying beneath a thin sheet, wires attached to various parts of his body was his friend, Evan. He looked pale, almost deathlike.

Taking a deep breath Sean opened the door and walked in. "Hello mate," he said softly.

"Huh?" Donna shifted in her chair, opening her eyes.

"Hi Donna. Sorry didn't mean to disturb you."

"You're here," she said, jumping out of the chair. "Have you got it?"

Sean had been dreading this moment. He had thought through every way he could smooth over his failure, but in the end there was only one thing he could do. That was to tell it as it was.

Walking over, he put his hands on Donna's shoulders and looked into her eyes.

This was going to be so, so hard.

"You bloody cretin! You let the gremlin get away with my bloody pendant," Webster shouted.

The shock and utter disappointment in Donna's eyes cut deep into Sean's heart. He turned to Webster, who stood just inside the door tapping his cosh in the palm of his hand. Sean could see the colours inside shimmer each time it struck the ghost's hand.

"Let him go Brodie. Please. For me. I'll come with you if you do."

Donna's sounded defeated. Sean could see the sincerity in her eyes as she stared at her dead husband.

### Chapter 20

Sean felt a tickle. Brushing his ear, he rolled over and groaned. God his head was pounding. How much did he have to drink last night?

"You look terrible."

Cracking one eye open, Sean coughed, nearly blowing Eenia off the pillow.

"Phew, your breath smells like a dragon's bottom!"

Sitting up, Sean stared down at the imp. "My, my. Such profanity from such a beautiful. . . . er . . . imp."

Puffing up her hair with her hands, Eenia gave a wide smile.

Taking to her wings, she hovered in front of Sean. "Didn't do too well yesterday then, I understand?"

Placing her hands on her hips, she studied him with a critical look, making him feel like a little boy in trouble with the school mistress.

"What did I tell you about letting the gremlin get its talons on the pendant?"

Holding up a defensive hand, Sean swung his feet out of bed, stifling back the belch that threatened to break out at any moment. Not because he was afraid of belching in front of Eenia, but because he didn't want to puke all over her.

"Heading for the toilet," he mumbled through his hand, rushing for the bathroom at a half-run.

Twenty minutes later, Sean made his way through to the kitchen, feeling at least a little more civilised. He stopped just inside the door, amazed by what he saw.

The kitchen had never looked so spick and span. It literally sparkled.

"What happened?" he asked. "Did you do this?"

Eenia giggled. "Me? You must be joking. I hate housework. No, it was him."

Turning round, Sean spotted a shy face peeking out from behind the kitchen door. He frowned, trying to make sense of the little creature as it emerged. He had never seen anything like it before.

About a metre tall, pot bellied, thin arms hanging down to its knees, the creature stared at him from large liquid-black eyes. It grinned, the ends of its mouth turning upwards on its wide, jowly face.

Sean nodded and it nodded back.

Its thin blond hair hardly covered the pointy head and hung limp over donkey-like ears, wafting back and forth when it moved. The checked shirt; the three-quarter length green trousers with their dark stripes, complete with protective knee pads; plus the bright red braces – all added to the overall comical look.

"And you are?" Sean asked, scratching his head in bewilderment.

The creature turned to Eenia, a pleading look in its eyes.

"He's a brownie," Eenia said, "and extremely shy. His name is Tamthorne. He didn't like living in Scotland very much, so he got a lift down here in the boot of your car."

Leaning forward, Sean held out his hand. "Hello little fellah, my name's Sean. Is it okay if I call you, Tammy?"

Nodding, the brownie stared at the floor, twisting the toe of his felt boot back and forth on the tiles. Then glancing back up at Sean, he unexpectedly smiled, before disappearing with a loud pop.

"Oh! Where's he gone?"

"He's in the bathroom, cleaning up the mess you left having a shower."

"Why?"

"Because that's what brownies like Tamthorne love doing."

"Really?" Sean frowned. "And will I have to pay him or something?"

"Goodness me, don't do that!" Eenia admonished. "If you do, he'll move on to another house."

"He does it for nothing!" Sean was astounded that in this day and age, anybody – human or otherwise – would do something for nothing.

"Yes. Well just for a little food really. By the way, his favourite food is porridge and honey."

"Tell me Eenia, why is it that I can suddenly see all these––" Sean waved his hand uselessly.

"Beings?" she offered.

"Yes, beings. How is it that I can see them all of a sudden?"

Eenia flitted high up to the ceiling, staring down at him for a moment before flitting back.

"Well, since your accident you've developed this kind of aura round you."

Sean held his hand up, wriggling his fingers. "I have?"

"Uhuh. It's kind off like . . . well let's say like a light from a window attracting a moth at night. Beings from the Cusp, as well as those that have managed to make themselves a life in your dimension, like Tamthorne and me, are attracted to you. We have the option of not following up on it of course, but––" she shrugged.

"So I'm irresistible, is that it? Wow."

"Hey don't be so conceited."

"Well, that's all very good I suppose Eenia, but it hardly helps me save Evan does it?"

"No need to look so down," she said, flying nearer and settling on his shoulder. "Listen, I have a plan that just might work."

***

"Please, Donna don't even think about doing it."

"Why not. What have I got left here? My husband is dead – beyond dead really. And the man, who gave up everything for me, may never recover and will probably die."

Sean slipped his arm round Donna's shoulders, pulling her into his side. "I know how terrible you must feel Donna."

Gently pushing him away she gave a sad smile. "I've been far too reliant on others all my life, Sean. Well no more. Today I'm taking my future into my own hands and living it the way I want. The way I should have all these years. Now I must be strong for Evan."

"But Evan wouldn't want you to do this. You know he wouldn't. He loves you."

"And I him, Sean. But how will he ever know that if I don't join him?"

"Look, Webster's – sorry Brodie's – been pulled into the Cusp and won't be able to get back out now, so I've got to find some way of getting in there after him and find out what happened to the pendant. I'm just asking that before you do anything desperate, let me see what I can do. Promise me?"

Donna stood up, taking her coat from the back of the chair. "I'm going back to the hospital now Sean. Thank you for the coffee and meal."

"At least let me give you a lift."

Donna's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "It was bad enough coming over here in that car of yours. If you don't mind, I'd rather get a taxi."

"Oh right. Yes, I forgot about the car." Walking to the door Sean opened it for her. "Hold off a while. Give me some time Donna, please."

Hugging him and kissing his cheek, she nodded. "The doctors seem to think that Evan is fading, and there's really nothing more they can do. He has perhaps two weeks at most, Sean."

"I know. I know."

"I won't let him die alone."

Sighing heavily, Sean clasped Donna by the shoulders. "Neither will I Donna. I promise you. Believe me, I'll find a way to save him."

"Goodnight Sean."

And suddenly, amid the scent of summer grass, Donna was gone.

Sean watched her walk down the grubby stairs from his flat, while somewhere further up the staircase a light flickered and buzzed.

Softly closing the door, he walked back to the kitchen table and began clearing up the dirty plates.

Halfway through the task, he gulped, sat on the hard wooden chair, held his head in his hands and sobbed quietly.

Sean had never felt so lonely and useless in his life.

"I'm so sorry I've let you down like this, Evan. So, so sorry."

### Chapter 21

Sean pulled his coat tighter round his body and crossed his arms. The night was fresh, the sea breeze bringing the smell of seaweed wafting over the beach. Waves gently lapped the shore, rustling the sand like an impatient dealer riffling a pack of cards.

Looking around again, he checked he was in the right place. The clouds hid the moon, so it was hard to see very far.

He had been sitting against the sand dune so long now, staring out at the rock that his eyelids had grown heavy. Fearing he might fall asleep, he took off his coat and slipped on the flippers lying by his side.

The wetsuit kept him fairly warm and he didn't have far to swim, so he should be okay – that was if Eenia had got her facts right and this crazy plan of hers actually worked.

Shaking his head, Sean wondered for the hundredth time why he was so ready to believe her.

Okay, he'd seen ghosts; argued with a gremlin; had a heart-to-heart with an imp; and met a brownie. But this?

A movement on the water caught his attention, and Sean held his breath.

Yes there. Not too far out.

The water surface broke again as a slender form breached it.

Scrambling round the side of the dune so he wouldn't be seen, Sean peeked out, staring hard into the darkness. The moon broke through the clouds giving him his first proper sight of the seal before it dived down into the depths again. Then a few moments later it was back up, much nearer to the rock now.

Eenia had told him this was the selkie's favourite spot: that she came here often during the full moon. It looked as though she was right.

Sean watched, fascinated, while the seal humped itself up onto the rock, moving about until it found a comfortable spot. Slowly straining its body upwards until it was standing erect, it spread its large tail over the slippery surface to hold its weight. Then, shaking its body, it raised its broad, flat flippers towards the moon.

Sean couldn't fully see what happened next, but the seal's body appeared to split from its throat to its tail. Nothing further took place for a few minutes and Sean sat watching breathlessly. If what Eenia had told him was true, it should happen any moment now.

Another cloud passed over the moon, then cleared, allowing a long bar of moonlight to reflect across the water.

Suddenly the seal's skin slithered downward, revealing the silhouette of a woman.

Sean couldn't see many details when she slipped into the sea, leaving her sealskin behind on the rock. Waiting until she was out of sight, he ran across the sand, dived into the water and swam out to the rock. After quickly stuffing the sealskin into a bag, he headed back to the beach.

Ditching the flippers, Sean ran back into the sand-dunes, and dug a deep hole in which to bury the bag and its precious content.

Finished, Sean breathed a quiet sigh of satisfaction and settled back to wait.

***

It was quite awhile later when Sean heard the splashing of someone swimming out by the rock. The silhouette climbed from the sea onto the rock, looking around, growing increasingly anxious in its behaviour.

"Over here," Sean called, waving so he could be seen.

The silhouette turned and looked at him. Then, diving from the rock, it almost flew through the water towards him.

"Where's my skin! What have you done with it?"

The woman striding towards Sean through the shallows looked very, very angry. Water ran down her naked body, reflecting the moonlight.

Holding out his hand, Sean offered her the clothing he had brought along.

Walking up to him, the selkie slapped the clothes from Sean's hand. "I don't want your stupid human clothes. I want my skin. Now tell me where it is or I'll . . . I'll––"

"I have it safe." Picking up the clothes, Sean held them out again. "Please, take these. I have something I want you to do for me."

Sean tried not to stare too hard at the selkie's body as she stood before him, hands on her hips, legs slightly spread, head thrust forward in defiance.

She was just less than two metres tall, her olive skin only marked by a sea-serpent tattoo winding its way round her left leg from ankle to crotch. An oval face framed with black hair, one side cut shorter than the other, brown eyes flecked with yellow. A Roman nose and full lips completed the picture. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but in Sean's eyes, very close to it.

He waited, holding his breath, unsure what she would do: was capable of doing.

Eenia had assured him that as long as he had her skin, there was nothing the selkie could do but obey him. From the way she was behaving, he wasn't too sure about that.

"If I do this thing that you want, you'll return the skin you stole?"

Sean nodded. "And I haven't stolen it, just borrowed."

She huffed, her small breasts jiggling with the movement. "Sure looks like you stole it to me. And why are you staring at me that way?"

Sean mumbled an apology at her, holding out the clothes once more.

Snatching them from his hand, she put them on, finally standing off to one side, looking like she could gladly murder him.

"How do you know about us? About the selkies?"

"An imp told me," Sean answered quietly, hoping she would soon calm down enough for him to explain what he wanted.

"What's your name?" he asked, trying to cool the situation.

Smoothing down the loose thick pants he had given her, the selkie spent a few minutes adjusting the button-down bodice before slipping on the walking shoes.

"Alareth," she finally said. "Who chose light grey for the outfit, the imp?"

Sean nodded.

"I didn't think it could have been you. You look like you've got no taste at all."

"My name's Sean."

"So?"

Sean was getting a little tired of the selkie's petulance.

"Look," he said. "We both know you're stuck with me until you get your skin back. So why don't you just make the best of a bad situation and help me get on with the job?

"What job?"

Sean could see the suspicion flare in Alareth's enigmatic eyes. Tearing his gaze away he looked out over at the ocean.

"Look I'm really sorry to drag you away from your home this way. I wouldn't have done it if there had been any other way. But I need you to guide me through the Cusp."

"The Cusp? Are you mad?" Taking a step backwards, the selkie stamped her foot." Do you realise what you're asking of me?"

Sean stared back at her, trying to push the guilt away. "My friend will die if I don't recover something from there, and I have little time left in which to get it."

Alareth turned quiet for a moment, obviously thinking.

Sean stood quietly beside her, praying she would say yes. If she said no, he knew he wouldn't be able to force her to go. He would just return her skin and hope the imp could come up with another plan.

"The imp said you would know a way into the Cusp, and be able to help me. She said you were the only one that could do this," Sean prompted.

"Did she now?"

He nodded, waiting, sensing that she might be weakening.

"Tell me where my skin is."

Sean's hopes died and his shoulders sagged.

"Come on," he said, "it's this way."

### Chapter 22

Sean yawned, tapping the steering wheel, thinking that if he ever had to come to Scotland again, he would scream – although the use of Donna's BMW had made the trip much more pleasant this time. It wasn't that he didn't like Scotland. It was dramatic and beautiful. No. it was the boring journey getting there that got to him. Next time he would try flying.

His rucksack, containing the precious Kelpie Bridle, sat beside him on the passenger seat.

Alareth had explained the need to get a bridle, and how the MacGregors were in possession of one. The bridle had been passed down through the generations from when one of their clan managed to save himself from a Kelpie near Loch Muic.

The downside was, it had taken six diamonds to persuade the wrinkled old git to hand it over. And when Sean finally got his hands on it, he had almost demanded his diamonds back.

The bridle was ancient, the leather old and brittle, with mould growing on parts of the mouthpiece. In fact, the thing looked like it should be dumped in the nearest wheelie bin. If it hadn't been for Eenia whispering in his ear, he might just have done that.

After overtaking a smoke belching articulated lorry, Sean pulled back into the centre lane, checking his mirror when the vehicle flashed him.

"Why did he do that?" Eenia asked from her perch on his shoulder.

"What, flash his lights?"

"Yes."

"Because he's an ars––"

Sean just managed to stop himself from swearing. He had been doing far too much of that lately.

"Because I pulled in too soon," Sean admitted.

Eenia turned and bit his ear.

"Ouch!" Sean said, pulling his head aside. "What did you do that for?"

"Because you swore."

"But I didn't."

"Well you nearly did."

"Then perhaps you'd better nearly bite me the next time," Sean answered sarcastically, pulling out again to overtake another lorry.

"Do it right this time. And no swearing."

"Look Eenia, I appreciate you coming with me to get the bridle and all that, but could you please just––"

Leaning forward, she frowned at him.

"Just?" she asked in a tone that told him he was skating on thin ice.

"This bridle. Will it really work do you think?" Sean asked, quickly changing the subject.

Eenia crossed her legs at the ankles and patted her thighs, looking out of the car window. "Oh such a doubter, and after all I've already done for him as well."

"Can't blame a guy for asking, and I'm still not sure I understand what this is all about."

Eenia bit his ear again.

"Will you stop doing that? We'll have an accident at this rate."

"Don't you ever listen to anything I tell you?"

"God you're sounding just like my ex-girlfriend now."

"Look, Alareth said she can get into the Cusp and out again, but that she only knew of one way that she could take you with her."

"Yes I know all that. I'm talking about this Kelpie-horse thing she was telling us about."

Sighing, Eenia leant back and flicked his ear, which was at least better than all the biting.

"Sean, Sean, Sean. I'll explain it once more. Please listen attentively this time because your life's going to depend on it, okay?"

"Okay. Okay. On you go."

"You get that a Kelpie is a kind of shape-shifting water spirit, living in rivers and streams?"

"Uhuh."

"And that each one has its favourite place?"

"Yep."

"So the Kelpie tries to lure people into the water to kill them, eating everything but the heart and liver."

"Charming. I must have missed that bit, or we wouldn't be driving up to Scotland right now. Are you sure you told me about that before?"

Ignoring Sean's sarcasm, Eenia carried on. "If somebody sits on the Kelpie's back, the skin becomes sticky and they're dragged to the bottom of the water and eaten. There is only one way in which a Kelpie can be tamed and that is by using its bridle.

"Because the Kelpie's power resides in its bridle, anyone in possession of it can force the Kelpie to submit to his or her will. See? Simple."

Glancing in the mirror Sean pursed his lips. "Easy for you to say. You won't be the one riding on the bloody thing's back."

They drove on in silence for a bit.

"Great. So Alareth expects me to ride a horse to the bottom of a loch without getting eaten. Sounds like fun," Sean grumbled.

"Oh for goodness sake, stop whining. You heard what she said as well as I did. It wasn't my idea."

"Why can't the entrance to this stupid nether-world be situated some place sensible, like Webster's front room?"

Eenia giggled.

"Yeah. Like that's helpful," Sean complained.

***

"You're sure you understand what you have to do? This is really important Sean. If either of us gets this wrong you'll die down there at the bottom of the loch."

Sean nodded at Alareth.

She had left for Scotland four days before them, and Sean was amazed that she had managed to swim such a distance in so short a time, even in her seal skin. He was beginning to understand there was so much more to learn about the hidden world overlaying his than he had ever imagined.

"Thank you for coming Alareth. I don't know what we'd have done without you."

"Don't let me forget to show you where I've hidden my skin. You'll need to know, just in case."

"In case what?"

"Don't be stupid," Eenia whispered in his ear before flying across to Alareth. "He can't help it, you know. Don't be too hard on him; he's just a poor human."

They both giggled, leaving Sean feeling quite insulted. "So what now? Where's this Kelpie then?"

Ignoring him Alareth held out her hand so Eenia could stand on it.

"I'll get back to Donna now you're here and tell her what's happening," Eenia said. "She'll be worried." Nodding in Sean's direction, she tutted. "Someone forgot to charge his mobile, so there's no way of contacting her from here."

"I keep telling you. It was the gremlin!" Sean protested.

Waving goodbye, Eenia flew off, disappearing over the rugged hillside.

"What now? Sean asked.

"Now we settle down and wait."

***

Sean snorted when Alareth shook him out of his deep sleep. She was frowning, finger to her lips.

"You were snoring."

"Sorry," he whispered back, drawing her slight Pisces scent into his nose.

At first he'd found it a bit off–putting, but was growing to like it now.

"Keep your head down. Look there."

Sean looked where Alareth indicated, disappointment flooding through him.

"Is that it? I've ridden better looking donkeys on the beach as a kid!"

Standing amongst the heather was a small, scraggy looking pony, its long coat, dirty and matted. It was moving slowly, limping on one back leg. It looked pitiable.

"Shh keep your voice down. It has exceptional hearing."

"Come on Alareth, that's pathetic. If I got on its back, it would probably collapse."

"That's what it wants you to think. It must be hungry. Look how it's limping. Guess its hoping for a wild cat. Well it's sure found one in you, hasn't it?"

Sean tried to ignore the jibe.

"Come on, get going. I'll join you in the water once you're in. Remember to keep your arms and legs away from its mouth. And for heaven's sake, try not to drown yourself."

Throwing Alareth a scornful look, Sean stood up and ambled his way after the pony. It ignored him and carried on nibbling at the heather.

This is going to be easier than swatting flies with a tea cloth. Something Sean had become well adept at since meeting a certain gremlin.

Taking a short run, Sean placed his hands on the pony's rump and launched himself onto its back, slipping the bridle over its head. The animal whinnied, rearing up on its back legs.

Sean was surprised when he kept rising, and rising, until he was metres from the ground. Then the pony fell forward onto its front legs, with Sean hanging on tightly to the bridle.

Sean needn't have worried about falling off the horse, because his thighs had somehow stuck to the kelpie's wide back, and he could no longer disentangle his hands from the cracked leather bridle.

Sean swallowed loudly, shocked to find himself unexpectedly mounted on an enormous white horse. The creature's blindingly white main, tail and forelocks blew in the breeze as it tossed its head, whinnying loudly.

The shape-shifting horse was big, really big, far bigger than Sean had expected. At least three metres from ground to shoulders. It pawed at the heather, and Sean caught a flash of backward facing hooves.

This was crazy!

Turning its head the horse tried to bite him, but Sean quickly twisted away.

"I own your bridle, you bastard, so behave yourself. Unless you want to end up in the knacker's yard."

Whinnying again the horse suddenly took off, straight towards the lock. Taken by surprise, Sean only just had time to take a deep breath before he was plunged into the coldest water he had ever felt.

The freezing water took his breath away, almost making him inhale. Fighting the urge, Sean clamped his lips tightly together.

As they sank deeper and deeper, Sean began to find it harder and harder not to breathe. Finally, he looked around in desperation, searching for Alareth.

Where the hell was she?

### Chapter 23

Webster was both frightened and raging. If there had been something to hit right then, he would have smashed it over the head with his cosh.

He had been unceremoniously yanked back into the Cusp with a force that almost tore his being apart.

Webster realised this was it! There would be no getting back to his home dimension, and Donna, anymore.

Well, the silly bitch would have to learn to get along on her own now. He'd spent his time and money on her, and to what end? Let her sort out her own stupid life from now on.

Kicking the ground, Webster looked around. It would be dark soon, a time when one shouldn't be wandering around in the Cusp unprotected.

He had better get going. Luckily he had ended up not too far from where he wanted to be, which was a plus.

***

The screams had started a short time ago, somewhere off to his left. Webster stopped for a moment, listening. The screams suddenly cut off, gurgling into an uneasy silence. Shrugging, Webster walked on, following the narrow path in the dim light.

If he didn't find it soon, he'd have to hole up for the night.

It happened just before Webster entered a forest.

The sound of flapping wings alerted him and he glanced upwards. Something glided overhead and then zoomed down to land on the ground off to one side.

Ignoring the small bird, Webster walked on, but hadn't taken more than a dozen steps when three more birds landed, much nearer this time.

Chaterlings!

Despite their cute name, these birds were killers. They attacked en masse, and once they did, there was little anyone could do to fend them off.

Holding his cosh tighter, Webster broke into a run, heading for the nearest trees.

If he could reach the forest before the flock assembled, he just might stand a chance.

***

Gasping for breath, Webster collapsed onto the ground. He had made it, but only just. A couple of chatterlings had entered the forest after him and he had quickly got rid of them with his cosh.

Webster had not stopped to collect the bodies though, because the overwhelming chattering noise of the flock circling outside the forest warned him he was still in danger. It was a pity, because a couple of dead chatterlings might go down well with the Wraith.

Webster was nearing the end of his strength and knew he hadn't much time left. He either had to entangle something or find the Wraith. If he didn't, he would never leave the Cusp.

Out of energy, Webster slowed, resting his hand on a tree, trying to regain his breath. It was then he saw movement through the undergrowth.

What was it? A light. A flickering light.

There was no electricity in the Cusp, so the light must be some kind of fire. And there was only one creature that could make fire here.

The Wraith.

Setting out again, Webster staggered on amongst the trees.

A little while later, Webster stepped out into a large clearing. In the centre was a huge log cabin. Light spilled from the glassless windows, showing the way along the path.

Webster pounded on the door, demanding entrance. He knew the Wraith was feared by all but a few creatures in the Cusp, but was sure that what he had to offer would be well received.

The door creaked open and Webster stumbled in, coming to a halt before an enormous fire built in the centre of the room.

The transition from darkness to light blinded Webster for a moment and he squinted his eyes against the glare. The fire gave out no heat and burnt with a yellow-green hue.

Webster could just make out a form sitting on the other side of the fire, but it was hazy and ill-defined.

"Tell me why you invade my privacy, Blurr," a soft voice said.

Blurr?

Webster felt a shock run through his body. Looking down his eyes widened and he gasped.

It was true. He was turning into a blurr!

Webster had overtaken a few of these harmless creatures shuffling along the path on his journey here.

If you focussed on them, they had a hazy, blurry, mirage-like appearance. These dead humans had almost reached the stage of complete entanglement and, before much longer, would disappear into the Cusp altogether.

"Answer, before I end your misery."

"I bring this in exchange for the pendant the gremlin gave to you."

Behind the fire the shadow moved. "Show me what you have."

Rounding the fire, Webster abruptly stopped, his heart beating wildly.

A dark shape towered over him. Its black, ragged cloak and hood covered all its body, leaving only claw-like hands showing. It appeared to be floating, the tattered ends of it cloak dragging on the dirt floor. Two bright points of light shone out of the darkness of its hood, making Webster shiver.

Something about this black apparition terrified him down to his very soul.

Webster held out a trembling hand, the cosh glowing brighter the nearer the Wraith came.

"Interesting," it said, holding out a clawed finger.

A pulse of brightness shot between the Wraith's finger and club, spewing out flecks of bright colour. It reminded Webster of times spent lighting sparklers on bonfire nights when he was a child.

"Yes, this is powerful indeed. It must have taken many lives?"

"It has," Webster replied, trying to hide the waver in his voice.

"Give it to me."

"Give me the pendant first."

A laugh echoed round the cabin, bouncing from wall to wall. When it stopped, Webster saw the Wraith's eyes had turned from white to red.

Webster swallowed, forcing himself to stand firm.

"So, you know I can't just take it from you, Blurr? That you have to offer it to me?"

"Yes, I know that."

"But if I give you the pendant, you'll pass onwards. I'm not sure I want that."

Holding up the cosh, Webster shaded his eyes against the sparks spraying from the end. "If I go, this goes with me."

"Very well Blurr. You shall have your pendant."

The Wraith clicked two of its claws together and Webster felt something fall round his neck. Touching the thin gold chain, he sighed.

Yes, here it was at last. His key to the next dimension.

Webster was unexpectedly overcome with lethargy, but he smiled, knowing he was on his way.

This was it at last; the beginning of his new life.

Webster's body slowly fell in upon itself, draining into the dirt, flowing like grains of fine sand. Finally all that remained were the pendant and cosh.

"Stupid creature!" the Wraith mumbled, holding out a hand above the two items.

The cosh and pendant floated upwards, until the Wraith could triumphantly wrapped his talons round them.

The feeling of power was almost overwhelming.

With these two prizes there would be no other being in the Cusp able to challenge him. Not even the Black Widow herself.

### Chapter 24

Sean felt his body fighting him. It screamed out to breathe, even if that breath was water.

They were sinking fast now, the surroundings becoming darker and darker. Sean felt as though he was disappearing into oblivion; the world as he knew it ceasing to exist.

Was this what dying felt like? Had he misjudged the Selkie?

Then he saw a flicker of light, but not the 'light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel' so beloved by fiction writers. No, this light was coming from him. It covered his whole body, grey-green, perhaps three millimetres thick, strong enough to light up the nearby surroundings.

It's my aura.

Sean saw Alareth swimming alongside the horse. Shaking his head he tried conveying his inability to hold his breath for much longer.

Seeing him struggle, Alareth swam closer, until she was able to slip her hand round the back of his neck. Then, leaning in, she covered his mouth with hers, sucking in her breath to extract the water, before quickly turning her head to expel it.

Alareth then clamped onto his mouth again, breathing in life-giving oxygen.

Sean was almost out of it by now, his head swimming, ears ringing, and vision pulsing in and out.

When the oxygen hit his brain, he began to struggle, but Alareth clasped his shoulder with a firm grip, shaking her head. They sank deeper and deeper into the loch, and Sean began to worry there was no bottom.

Twice more Alareth gave him air, smiling when he nodded his thanks.

"Soon now," she mouthed.

Finally, they hit the bottom, stirring up clouds of silt that blinded him.

Sean suddenly found himself whipped back and forth as the Kelpie tried to bite him again. He kept away from the snapping teeth, catching glimpses of Alareth through the silt. She swooped in, fighting the horse, her hand clamped onto its top lip.

After a hard struggle, Alareth finally brought the Kelpie under control, and Sean unexpectedly found himself floating free in the water.

Grabbing him round the waist, keeping her body between him and the Kelpie, Alareth swam away at an astounding speed, trailing bubbles behind them.

At a safe distance, she flipped over and dived headlong for the bottom of the loch. Sean's eyes widened in alarm and he began to struggle.

There was a sudden stunning headlong collision, a short feeling of compression, and an upward rush – as though he was in an express elevator.

Then – nothing.

***

Coughing and spluttering, Sean opened his eyes, but instead of finding himself floating on water, he was up to his knees in wet, softly shifting, muddy sand – and he was sinking fast!

Sean panicked, thrashing about, trying to reach the side of the quicksand, but quickly found himself up to his waist in the mire.

"Stop splashing around, Sean. You're making it worse. You'll just sink faster that way."

Alareth's confident tone calmed him, and Sean stopped struggling, still gasping for air, heart thumping as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

"Good. Now lay back. That's it. Right onto your back. Don't worry you won't sink."

Doing as he was told, Sean shivered when the thick gunk rose round his shoulders and neck, caressing him with its stench.

"Now move your legs slowly back and forth. Get some space in there, so the water can ooze in between them and the mud."

Doing as she instructed, Sean soon found that he was able to raise his knees and slowly pull his legs up until he was floating on top of the quicksand.

Hearing a sudden crack, he began to panic again but stopped at Alareth's stern command.

A branch unexpectedly appeared over his head, the leaves brushing his face.

"Grab this," Alareth said. "That's good. Now hang on tight."

Sean felt himself slowly pulled across the sticky surface until his shoulders hit firm ground, and he was able to wriggle his way out.

"Welcome to the Cusp," Alareth said with a wide smile. "Sorry about the dramatic entrance."

"Well, you could have warned me what to expect," Sean complained, sitting up, wiping the mud from his face and body.

***

Alareth had called a halt, and they sat down beside the path on a couple of handy rocks. They had been travelling for what seemed like hours to Sean, even though the only measure of time he had was the movement of the bright sun overhead.

They had seen no other creatures since entering the Cusp and Sean was beginning to relax, even enjoying the hike they had been forced to undertake. It never occurred to him to ask Alareth why there was a path in the middle of nowhere, and nobody else but them using it.

"How are you feeling?" Alareth asked.

"Yeah, okay."

"We're going to have to replace the energy we are using before too long."

"You mean eat?"

Alareth shrugged. "Yes, sort of."

Sean thought about that for a moment, realising he hadn't once felt thirsty or hungry since they had arrived. He also hadn't seen anything that could have been called food or water.

"So where's the nearest burger joint then?"

"Huh?"

Sean smiled. "You know. Burgers? Beef patties in buns? You eat them?"

"Oh," Alareth nodded. "Nothing like that here. We'll have to dig something out, but we'll need something to dig with first. Something like a branch."

Sean didn't like the sound of that. "Dig? Like in the ground? For roots and things?"

"Roots, Wrigglers, Nutcrackers. Things like that."

"Wrigglers? You don't mean worms, do you?"

"Kind of. But not worms exactly."

"Well that's okay then."

"Look Sean, there's a lot you don't know about the Cusp. Heaven, there's a lot I don't know either. Just take this seriously will you? I don't want you to end up getting hurt."

Sean thought the idea of getting a little hurt might be preferable to eating worms, but kept that thought to himself. He knew Alareth was doing her best in a bad situation.

"Sorry. So what do I look out for then? What am I supposed to take seriously?"

Alareth giggled, and Sean smiled along with her. He thought she had the most adorable giggle he had ever heard.

"What shouldn't you look out for, is more the question. Everything in here is a danger to you, Sean. Sean?"

"Oh sorry. Yes."

Sean's mind had been back in the loch, where Alareth had been feeding him air. He could still taste her mouth on his.

Alareth unconsciously kneaded her thigh. "Most things in here, though dangerous, can be out-fought or out-run, but there are a few you should keep a wary eye out for."

"And what do I do if I see one of those?"

"Run like the very Devil itself is after you, Sean. Because in a sense it will be."

Picking up a small stone, Sean bounced it in his palm for a moment before tossing it aside.

"Perhaps you had better tell me about those first then, Alareth?"

"The main ones to worry about are, Weeble Bugs, Chatterlings, Ghouls and Direwolves. There are a few others, but if you meet them, you'll be long dead before being able to do anything about it."

"Charming."

"The top predator in here is something called a Bodjak. I suppose it looks a bit like one of your canines, but has red fur. Quite cute actually. Exceedingly quick and lethal. If we come across one, pray the end is quick. Although I doubt it will be."

Sean studied Alareth intently for a moment. She looked away and he couldn't make out whether she did so in embarrassment or not.

"Tell me something, Alareth."

She nodded at him silently.

"Why did you come in here with me? You had your skin back. You didn't have to. You could have just gone back to your own world."

"Because without me you wouldn't have found a way in. Not unless you died of course, and then you may have just passed straight on through to the next dimension, like most dead people do."

"I know that, but why did you come along? You could have trained me in the ways of the Kelpie and let me do it alone. I'm sure I would have muddled through somehow."

"Come on," Alareth said, standing up. "Time to move. Keep your eyes open for something we can dig with."

### Chapter 25

Donna smiled, holding out her hand.

Eenia landed on her palm, smiling back up at her.

"Hello Eenia. What are you doing here? I thought you were up in Scotland with Sean and Alareth. Is everything alright?"

"Yes Donna. They were waiting for the Kelpie when I left. Sean's mobile was flat so he couldn't call you, and we decided I'd come back to let you know what's going on."

Donna shook her head and gave a chuckle. "Trust him."

"How's Evan?"

Donna sighed. "No real change. Sometimes he opens his eyes, or twitches his hand, and I get my hopes up, but––"

"Don't give up hope Donna. If anything can be done, Sean and Alareth will find a way."

"There are only a few days left Eenia, so there is no hope. Evan's run out of time."

"Don't you know? Oh, I guess nobody told you, did they?"

Donna raised her eyebrows. Her face carried a weary look, as though she had lost all her energy.

Eenia flew to Donna's shoulder, her heart heavy for her new friend.

"Time inside the Cusp is not as it is here, Donna. A day here is more like a week in there. They have the time to do what's needed. It'll be okay."

Donna sat down at the large country-style kitchen table, pushing her coffee cup back and forth in front of her.

"I miss him Eenia. Really, really miss him. He's such a big galumph, but no-one has ever treated me the way he does. He's become a big part of my life. A big part of me."

"I know it must be hard for you Donna, but keep your faith. You'll be together again soon. Trust me."

Getting up, Donna walked to the coffee machine and made herself another cup.

Eenia had flown back to the table and was thinking hard about how she might make Donna's pain more bearable.

Sitting down, Donna took a sip of hot coffee. "The doctors are taking a lumber puncture today. They think he may have something called, locked-in syndrome." Giving a dismissive laugh she shook her head. "They haven't a clue, have they? But I can't say anything. Who would believe me if I told them the truth?"

"It must be hard for you."

Donna leant her elbows on the table, cup cradled in her hands. "Tell me about the Cusp Eenia."

Eenia had been hoping Donna would never ask that question, but now that she had, she knew she couldn't lie about it.

Putting down her cup, Donna looked at her, waiting.

"Well, where to start?" Eenia pulled an apple from the fruit bowl and sat on it. "The Cusp is a weird place, but not weird in a nice way, you understand. It's a place where humans get their nightmares from. A place where the inhabitants spend much of their time trying to entangle each other."

"I don't understand. Entangle?"

Eenia thought a moment, not keen to explain. "Well, those living in the Cusp have no real physical bodies, like you do here. Although to them it probably appears they have. They don't die exactly, but over time loose small bits of themselves to their surroundings, becoming weaker. If they become too weak, they cease to be and are completely absorbed by the Cusp. They become entangled."

Donna frowned. "So this entanglement is similar to dying then."

"Yes, kind of. But if one being manages to catch another and entangle it, then they become stronger. I've heard it's very unpleasant for the victim; slow and very, very painful. Extremely so."

"But surely Sean and Alareth couldn't become entangled in there?"

Hanging her head, Eenia nodded.

***

Evan's eyes were open when Donna entered his room. Leaning over she kissed him on the lips, longing for the time when he would be able to respond. He had dribbled, so she wiped his chin with a tissue before sitting down and taking his hand, patting it lightly while she talked.

"I had a visit from Eenia today, my love. You know the little imp I told you about? She's become a true friend to me. I know she worries about me and does her best to keep me positive."

Donna stopped talking when the door opened and a nurse stuck her head in.

"Oh don't let me disturb you, Mrs Webster. I just wanted to check if you needed anything."

"No, but thanks for asking. You're very kind. Oh," Donna called as the nurse began closing the door. "have you got the results of the lumbar puncture yet?"

"We'll have the results tomorrow, Mrs Webster."

"Okay. Thank you."

The nurse left, and Donna turned her attention back to Evan.

"So Eenia tells me that a day here is like a week in that Cusp place. So here's what I plan to do. If you don't recover by the end of the week Evan, I'm giving you some stuff I've got from the internet. Don't worry," she assured him, patting his hand again. "they say it won't hurt and is guaranteed to work within a few minutes. After that I'm going up to the top floor of the hospital."

Donna paused. She had originally planned to inject herself at the same time as she did Evan, but quickly realised there was too much chance of her being discovered before the poison worked. No, this way was best.

"After that we'll be together again, Evan. Just as we were meant to be. Oh, I love you so, so much my darling."

Blinking away her tears, Donna sat back in her seat, took out a copy of her favourite book and began to read.

Her voice was a soft drone in the dying light.

### Chapter 26

"What's that noise?" Sean stopped walking, turning his head to locate the sound.

Carrying on the wind, the soft drone appeared to be coming from just over a nearby hill.

"Come on," he shouted, breaking into a fast sprint. "Where there are bees, there are bound to be trees, or a bush, or something."

"Sean. Stop!"

Alareth's shout went unheeded, because Sean was already out of sight, pushing his way into a prickly mess of bushes.

"Hey, Alareth. Over here. I've found just the thing."

Reaching the edge of the bushes, Alareth stood on tip toes, trying to see where Sean was. She heard a grunt and a loud cracking sound, then the bushes began to shake again as he appeared to be forcing his way back towards her.

"Damn it!"

"What is it Sean?" Alareth tried pushing her way in, but the spines of the bush pricked her skin.

"Something just stung me. Ouch you little bastard!"

This exclamation was followed by the sound of thrashing that quickly grew nearer.

"Get off you little buggers!"

Sean suddenly burst out of the bushes, his face puffed up and red. A cloud of tiny black dots buzzed round his head.

Alareth backed away.

"Don't just stand there. Do something," Sean called out.

"Get away from the bushes, and they'll leave you alone. You idiot, what did I tell you about dashing about like a raging bodjak in here?"

Sean moved away from the bushes, shaking his head to dislodge the last of the creatures feeding on him.

"Ouch. Ow, that bloody hurts."

Bending over, Alareth picked up a handful of dirt and rubbed it over Sean's face.

"Stop wriggling you baby. This'll help ease the stings."

"Easy for you to say," Sean grumbled, rubbing the last of the dirt off his face with a flourish.

Alareth laughed at his antics. "You're adorable, do you know that?"

Walking over to her, Sean pulled his hand from behind his back. "See what I've got."

Taking the branch, Alareth examined it with a critical eye, turning it this way and that.

"I suppose it'll do," she finally said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sean leant nearer. "I think my heroic actions in the face of an overwhelming force deserve a kiss, don't you?"

Giggling, Alareth hit him with the stick.

"Come on you fool. It's getting dark. We need to find somewhere to spend the night."

"I could think of a few places," Sean answered under his breath, still rubbing his buttocks.

***

"That's it," Sean ordered. "Pull that one a bit more forward."

They had managed to find a depression under a rock where they could spend the night.

After some digging and scrabbling about, they had dug themselves a cosy little space. A trip to some nearby bushes –– after Sean had spent a long time rattling them, checking there were no bitey things in residence –– produced enough small branches to cover the entrance.

The light was fading fast but Sean's aura cast out enough light for them to see by.

"That's handy," he laughed, waving his arm about.

"Yes, until some passing bodjak spots the light and pays us a visit during the night."

Sean fiddled with the branches, ensuring no stray light was escaping. "There that's better."

Turning back he saw Alareth was busy methodically deepening a hole she was digging in the dirt. Every few minutes she stopped to listen.

"You got a real thing about these bodjaks, haven't you?" Sean sat down by her side, crossing his legs.

"Shh," she said, tipping her head to one side.

Sean waited patiently while she continued digging.

"Come nearer and listen," she said, wiggling her fingers at him.

Sean leant over the hole. At first he heard nothing, then could just make out a faint rustling. It was similar to the sound sand makes when the wind blows it about. Holding his hand over the hole to caste some light in, he could just make out movement in the bottom.

"Dig them out," Alareth said over his shoulder. "Use your hand. Quickly, before they escape. It's alright, they're harmless."

Plunging his hand in, Sean scooped out a handful of earth, dropping it to one side.

"More. Get some more."

Six handfuls later, Alareth told him they had enough. Wiping his hand down his leg, Sean watched her sort through the small mound of dirt.

Alareth's hair had fallen over one eye and she moved it aside with the back of her hand before going back to her work. In the dim light, the serpent round her leg looked almost alive.

Finished, Alareth looked up, catching him staring at her.

Sean felt the blood flush his face, glad that the stings he'd got earlier hid his blush.

"Here," she said, holding out her hand.

Ten wormy little fat things wriggled about on her palm.

"Take them," she said, urging him with an impatient wave.

Picking them up, Sean held one between finger and thumb, twisting it back and forth near his eyes, examining it closely.

"Go on, eat it," Alareth ordered. "It won't bite you."

Sean took a tentative nibble, his eyes widening when his mouth flooded with the most incredible taste.

"Wow. What is it?"

"It's a wriggler. At this time of year, they're stocking up for harder times. They feed off the eggs of those flies you found when you went crashing about in those bushes earlier."

Popping another one into his mouth, Sean slowly chewed and swallowed. "They taste great. Really nice."

"Don't eat them all. Save some for when we wake up."

"How? Won't they just burrow back into the ground?"

"Here." Reaching over, Alareth tore the pocket from Sean's coat. "Wrap them in this."

"Hey!" Sean objected. "That jacket cost a lot of money. It's my favourite."

"Looks a bit tatty to me."

Sean looked down and nodded. "Yeah. Got a point there, I suppose.

Sean had given up trying to wipe the mud off it quite some time ago, and now, with the missing pocket.

Slipping the packet into his trouser pocket, Sean lay back on the ground.

Alareth settled beside him.

***

Alareth moved quietly, easing Sean's coat aside so his aura better lit up his face.

Being a selkie, she never slept, just took constant micro-naps of a few seconds at a time. This allowed her the protection she needed when she was swimming in deep oceans, where there was always danger. But it also meant that when she was on land, living amongst humans, she was left alone for long hours.

Settling into a more comfortable position, Alareth smiled. It lent her face a soft beauty. Watching Sean sleep, she pondered his earlier question.

So why had she come to this dangerous place with this human?

Closing her eyes, Alareth shifted onto her back, reviewing the time since they had met. Her memory was faultless, and she was able to see, hear and smell every encounter she had ever had with him: the smallest exchanges.

When was it exactly that these feelings for him had started?

Sean gave a snort and began a gentle snore.

Alareth chuckled quietly, moving closer, feeling the warmth from his body. Humans fascinated her. As a child, she had often left the ocean, spying on them when they were by the sea.

Alareth was always punished of course. Such behaviour was not only dangerous for her, but in the long distant past, had led to a flurry of selkie deaths as humans hunted the so-called mermaids.

One of Alareth's family had been speared and dragged from the depths many, many years before.

Alareth could imagine what the selkie's screams must have sounded like as the poor unfortunate was dragged aboard the schooner.

Even so, Alareth couldn't help her curiosity. Lying here now, she felt extraordinarily close to this human: in some ways closer than to her own kind. She knew this was unusual, but not unknown behaviour.

Alareth had heard the tales of selkies marrying humans back in the past. Even having children with them.

Settling down into the half-wakeful state all selkies adopted when inactive, Alareth wondered what it might be like having children with this human.

Finally, pushing such thoughts aside, she quickly became bored, so slipped through the branches covering the entrance and walked out into the cool dawn.

### Chapter 27

Sean felt cold, and his bed was unusually hard. Turning over, he snuggled down again, breathing in a mouthful of dust. Coughing and spitting he sat up, clouting his head on something hard overhead.

"What the bloody hell––!"

Suddenly remembering where he was, Sean rubbed his head.

Still spitting the dirt from his mouth, he pushed aside the branches covering the entrance of the bivouac. Walking out into bright light, he saw the sun was high in the sky.

Alareth was sitting cross-legged on the ground a short distance away, her back to him.

"You made enough noise to let half the beings living here know exactly where we are," she complained.

Walking over, Sean stood looking down at her.

"And good morning to you too. How long have I been asleep?"

Alareth looked back over her shoulder at him, shading her eyes from the sun.

"No idea," she said. "You think I carry a timepiece?" Holding out a hand, she beckoned him. "Here, help me up."

Sean pulled extra hard, sweeping her into his arms. She leant back, looking into his eyes. Feeling the full length of her body against his, Sean wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, tilted his head and half closed his eyes.

A sudden scream undulated across the hillside, cutting short Sean's amorous ideas.

The scream was long and distressing, agonising in its intensity.

Stepping across in front of Alareth, Sean looked about, trying to locate the source.

"What on earth was that?"

Placing a hand on Sean's shoulder, Alareth tugged at him. "Come on Sean, we have to go, right now. That was nothing on any earth you know about. From the sound of it, a bodjak is out there, having some fun."

More screams floated in on the breeze and Sean froze, unable to move, his mind trying to shut out what his imagination insisted on picturing.

"Sean. Move!"

Casting one last fearful look in the direction of the screams, Sean trotted after Alareth.

She set a fast pace, not letting up until Sean could go no further. Dropping to hands and knees, he gasped for breath, coughing repeatedly.

"Sorry . . . got to . . . stop for a minute."

Squatting beside him, Alareth rubbed his back, checking the way they'd come with a worried look.

"Let's hope whatever that was doesn't pick up our scent," she mumbled under her breath.

"What's that?"

"Nothing Sean. How're you feeling? Do you think you can walk now?"

Sean got to his feet, still breathing heavily but more in control.

"I think so," he said. "Long as it's not too fast. Haven't run like that for years."

"Come on then, this way."

Sean walked behind Alareth as they pushed through the dense undergrowth, letting his gaze take in her body. She walked with a strength and confidence he had not seen in a woman before. And the way she ran; she'd hardly been out of breath when they had stopped.

"It's all the swimming I do, Sean," Alareth called back, seemingly reading his mind.

Sean hoped she hadn't, because at that precise moment he had been staring at her butt!

***

The rest of the day was uneventful, and they made good progress, stopping at a small stream to drink.

Sean hadn't felt hungry at all and marvelled at the energy the small wormy things had given him.

Not finding anywhere better to stop, Alareth picked out a large tree in which to spend the night.

"Do you think you can climb up there?" she asked.

Sean studied the tree, pursing his lips. "Yeah, maybe."

"Up you go then," she said.

At first Sean made good progress, but slowed when he reached a big branch that offered some shelter. It was so big he couldn't get a safe grip on it.

"Here, I'll help," Alareth called from below.

Sean's eyes widened when he felt Alareth's hand on his backside.

Giving a grunt she hiked him up high enough for him to get a handhold. Feeling somewhat emasculated, he scrambled onto the branch.

Was there anything this woman couldn't handle?

After reminding himself that Alareth was a selkie and not a woman, Sean felt a little better. Grunting, he settled down, his back against the tree trunk.

"How many trees have you climbed before?"

Alareth sat by his side. "None. There aren't any trees in the sea."

"Funny," Sean answered sulkily.

"How about you?"

Sean shrugged. "Just one. And I fell out of that and broke my arm."

Alareth let out a long, loud laugh.

"It's fine for you to laugh. I was only eight."

Alareth turned and looked at him. Her face was very close, her lips glistening in the light of the setting sun.

"Come on," she said, prodding him with her elbow. "Get out those wrigglers. I'm feeling hungry, and there's no fish up here, just an old grumpus."

Pulling the packet from his pocket, Sean chuckled.

"Here you go," he said, holding out half of the wrigglers. "Bon appétit."

"Huh?"

"It means, enjoy your meal."

After eating, they settled down for the night.

Sean slipped his arm round Alareth's waist on the pretext of stopping her from falling out of the tree.

Resting her head on Sean's shoulder, Alareth sat quietly while he fell asleep, wondering if they would survive the perilous journey they had untaken.

***

Sean woke, his heart thumping.

Evan was screaming for his help.

Sean's friend was caught in the jaws of the most horrendous monster he could have ever imagined.

Still alive, but dripping litres of blood from a severed arm, Evan hung from the monster's jaws, eyes glazed with pain. Tossing him upwards the monster repositioned him, so Evan's legs were now down its throat.

Tipping back its head, the creature opened its big maw, gulping loudly.

Evan's screams filled Sean's mind, and he lunged forward, but found he couldn't move. Something had hold of him.

"Evan!" he shouted. "Evan!"

"Stop shouting Sean, and for goodness sake stop struggling. You'll pull us both off the branch at this rate."

Sean opened his eyes and quickly wished he hadn't.

He was hanging upside down from the tree branch, and the only thing stopping his fall was Alareth's grip on his ankles.

"Can you hear me Sean?"

"Yes," he managed to croak.

"I'm going to swing you hard towards those small bushes. When I let go I want you to try and somersault onto your feet. Do you understand?"

Not giving him time to answer, Alareth swung Sean a couple of times and let go.

The bushes broke most of Sean's plummet to earth, but he still hit the ground with a breath-taking thump. Fortunately he didn't break any bones. Stunned, he lay quietly, trying to get his breath back.

There was a crashing of snapping branches and in a moment Alareth was by his side, leaning over him, a worried expression on her face.

She began prodding him here and there.

"Are you alright Sean? Did you break anything? Can you speak?"

"What the hell happened?"

Alareth sat back. "Yes, I can see you're alright. Come on, get up and let's go find something to eat." Holding out a hand she pulled him to his feet.

"So, what happened, then?" he insisted, still bent double, examining every millimetre of his body.

"After you'd gone to sleep, I climbed down to make you that, as a surprise."

Alareth pointed back at the tree and Sean saw a rough-hewn spear leaning against it.

"I guess when I climbed back up again, I must have disturbed you. Anyway, you began shouting and thrashing out. Then you sort of fell out of the tree––"

Alareth sputtered to a stop, doing her best to smother her giggles, but didn't make a very good job of it.

Sean gave her a hard look. "So you knocked me out of the tree while I was sleeping? Yeah. Why wouldn't you do that?"

"Oh come on Sean, I didn't. You fell out. In fact you're lucky I was there to catch you, otherwise you'd have landed on your head. Not that it would have made that much difference."

Ignoring the jibe, Sean wandered over to inspect the spear.

It was perhaps half a metre taller than he was, the top end fashioned to a sharp point. He gripped it, finding it fitted his hand perfectly. Hefting it, he nodded. It was stout and well balanced.

"What did you use to make the carving?" he asked, rubbing his finger over the horse she had fashioned at head height.

The sap-wood made the horse stand out from the dark bark like it was alive.

"A stone I found."

"It's the Kelpie, isn't it?"

"Yes. Do you like it?"

Sean turned towards her, a broad smile on his face.

"It's perfect Alareth. Just like you. Worth every second of being pushed out of that tree."

"Yes, well. Don't go poking your eye out with it. I know what you're like."

They both laughed.

"Come on, this way." Alareth called, striding out.

Sean followed, getting the feel of his gift.

This woman never ceased to amaze him.

And yes, to his mind she certainly was a woman, no matter what form she took. A strong woman, who treated life with humour and, it seemed, was capable of tackling everything life threw at her.

### Chapter 28

"Donna? Donna wake up." Eenia flew back and forth over Donna's head. Finally, she landed on the pillow. "Hey Donna. It's really late."

Looking round, Eenia spotted the open brown plastic container lying on its side. The top was off, and a jumble of white pills had spilled out across the bedside cabinet's surface.

"Oh no, Donna. Donna, what have you done?"

Not knowing what else to do, Eenia grabbed Donna's earlobe and bit into it – hard.

Donna cried out in pain and tossed her head.

Eenia unexpectedly found herself thrown across the bedroom, just managing to get control before she smashed into a wall. Flying back, Eenia heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Donna's eyes were open.

"What's that on your mouth? Did you just bite me?"

Eenia wiped a spot of blood from the corner of her lips and gave a shy nod.

"I didn't know what else to do Donna. You wouldn't wake up. I thought––"

Donna followed Eenia's pointed nod. "Oh right," she said. "They're sleeping pills. I took some last night because I couldn't sleep. Maybe I shouldn't have drunk that whisky as well."

"I'm sorry Donna." Eenia sat on an upturned hairbrush, watching as Donna struggled out of bed.

"No, it's alright Eenia. Thanks for worrying about me. It's nice to know somebody cares."

"Of course someone cares. We all care."

Ignoring the remark, Donna headed for the en suit. "I'm going to take a shower and wake myself up to face the world Eenia. Why don't you go and do your impish things, whatever they are, and I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Eenia watched Donna close the door with a frown. There was no doubt about it, she had been firmly dismissed. Standing up, she fluttered her wings thoughtfully, trying to work out what she had done wrong.

Looking back at the pills, Eenia wasn't quite convinced that Donna had been telling her the whole truth about why she had taken them. Donna had been acting very strangely lately, locking herself away whenever she wasn't at the hospital, sitting by Evan's side.

Up till now Eenia had not intruded, but perhaps it was time she did.

A soft hum echoed around the bedroom as Eenia flew through the gap at the top of the window into the afternoon sunshine.

***

"Here."

Donna took the tissue the doctor handed her and wiped her eyes.

"So I'm afraid there's not much else we can do Mrs Webster. It's just a matter of time now."

Donna stared into the large brown eyes.

The doctor blinked, slowly nodding her head. "Are you okay? Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Shaking her head, Donna thanked the doctor and watched her walk away. She was tiny. It was the first time Donna had noticed that.

Heading back to Evan's room, Donna primed herself for what she had to do.

She had been noting the comings and goings by the hospital staff for the past couple of days and knew that three in the morning would be the best time. The nurse did her rounds then, so if she injected Evan straight after that, he would be dead before anybody had a chance to intervene.

Straightening her back, Donna opened the door and entered Evan's room. His eyes were open and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he was conscious, but it was just the sunlight reflecting from his pupils.

Sitting beside the bed, she pulled a book from her bag and began to read. But her mind was not on the story, it was on the life that lay ahead of them.

After a while Donna stopped reading, her eyes fixed on a place only she could see.

***

The beach was long, curved round the bay. The sea, an incredibly deep blue, broke over the shore in white froths.

She was watching a small dot in the distance.

It was Evan.

He was running along the beach in a relaxed jog, his strides even as he splashed through the shallows.

Donna felt the sun on her back, the gentle breeze tumbling her loose hair. She heard the grains of sand sliding over each other, smelt the tang of the sea, and heard the distant cry of a gull.

The whole scene was alight, glowing, every detail sharp.

Her Evan stopped and waved.

Everything was right with the world.

***

Letting the image dissolve, Donna closed the book and stuffed it back into her bag. She was hungry; she hadn't eaten since Eenia had woken her back at the mansion. She should go.

Standing at the end of the bed, Donna fought back the tears, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt detached, not herself, afraid and alone.

Tonight then. It must be tonight.

Bowing her head Donna began a silent prayer for forgiveness.

### Chapter 29

"I think we're near now Sean. One more night and we should reach it."

"What exactly are we looking for? A cave or something?"

Stopping, Alareth shook her head.

"A cabin in a big clearing. When I told Eenia where we would enter the Cusp, she said this path should lead us directly there. But I've never been here before, so––"

Resting on his spear, Sean took a breather. "So do you want to push on through the night then?"

"No, that would be too dangerous. This is ghoul country. Best we get some food and find somewhere to sleep. If we set off early in the morning we should be there before the sun gets high."

Sean looked around. The place looked desolate, the rocky ground sparsely covered with grass. The clouds were low and threatened rain.

"I'm going over to that hill, Sean. To see if I can spot anywhere to dig for wrigglers. Do you think you could look for a safe place we can spend the night? It's a pity it's so late in the year, otherwise we could have collected some kolumberries. In season they taste delightful."

Smiling, Alareth turned away. Then, with a, "I'll be as quick as I can," she headed for the hill.

Sean watched Alareth walking away for a moment, and then set about looking for shelter.

Coming across a squat tree, he decided to take a closer look. Perhaps the roots might provide the beginnings of a bivvy?

Trotting over, he stopped in front of the low hanging limbs. Clustered on each branch were what looked like big fat juicy berries.

Were these the berries Alareth had mentioned? Yes, they must be.

Dropping his spear, Sean bent low and made his way under the branches.

The scent from the berries was full, reminding him of the blueberry jam on buttered white bread he'd had for his tea when visiting his gran.

Reaching out, Sean poked one of the fruits. It swung about in a small circle. Sniffing his finger, he smelt the familiar scent again and closed his eyes, lost in the moment.

"Sean! SEAN! Get out of there right now. Quickly. Move yourself."

Sean wavered, feeling detached, as though lost in a room that had no substance.

Before he could react he was yanked to one side and pulled to the ground.

"Stay down and get yourself out of here you idiot. What did you think you were doing? Those are weeble bugs. You almost got yourself killed."

Taking a calming breath, Alareth helped Sean to his feet and looked him over.

"Thank goodness you got none on you. You didn't, did you?"

Sean felt like a small boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I thought they were those Columbian berries you were talking about."

Shaking her head, Alareth finished her inspection. "Kolumberries Sean. Kolumberries."

Picking up his spear, Sean frowned. "Right, whatever. I just wanted to do something useful."

Alareth nodded, and then went back to her inspection, pulling aside his clothes so she could examine his arms and legs.

"I don't understand it," she muttered. "There's not one to be found anywhere."

Getting irritated, Sean pulled her hand away when she started pulling his trousers down.

"What are you doing back so soon anyway? I thought you went looking for wrigglers."

"Right, yes." Alareth stopped pulling at his clothes and nodded. "When I reached the top of the hill, I saw the forest. It's really not too far away. We could make it well before dark if we leave now and get a move on."

"Okay then. What are we waiting for?" Sean strode out towards the hill, trying to cover his embarrassment.

Alareth followed in his footsteps, still checking there were no bugs around.

"So what's this Wraith character like, then?"

When Alareth didn't answer, Sean looked back over his shoulder. She obviously had her mind elsewhere. "Alareth?"

"Sorry?"

"What's the matter?"

Catching him up, she matched him stride for stride. "It's the weeble bugs."

"What about them? Nothing happened, did it?"

"That's the point Sean. It should have. Look, at this time of year they're incredibly dangerous. They hang on the weeble tree, sucking its sap and laying their eggs. The sap is incredibly poisonous. Deadly. They use it to protect themselves, to stop the birds eating them."

"Okay but I'm not a bird."

"No, but if you disturb the tree they would perceive that as an attack and drop on you. When they bite, the poison enters your bloodstream and before you can blink, you're kicking and screaming on the ground. It's not a quick or pleasant way to go either."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"You've really got to take more care Sean."

"Well if you told me about these things, I'd know what I'm doing, wouldn't I."

"I can't tell you about every little threat that exists in here. It'd take all day. Just be more careful in future."

"Doesn't sound like a little to me," Sean muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

They walked on in silence for a while.

Eventually Sean got over his sulks and turned to Alareth. "You know, I've been thinking about it and something strange happened when I was under that weeble tree."

Raising an eyebrow, Alareth waited.

"I smelt blueberries. Like ones I'd eaten when I was a child. And I seemed to be . . . I don't know how to describe it. Perhaps, else-when, is the best description."

Sean saw the interest leap into Alareth's eyes.

"How do you feel now, Sean?"

"Fine. In fact great. Yeah, really good. Why?"

"I think I may know why the weeble bugs left you alone. We've been here quite some time now, and you've lost some of yourself to the Cusp by expending energy, right? But by eating wrigglers and drinking the water here, you've also taken on some of the Cusp. I think your sort of melding with it. Becoming a part of it."

"I don't like the sound of that." Sean gave her a worried look.

"No, listen. There's a legend, an old one that tells of a human that had the ability to pass in and out of the Cusp whenever she liked. In fact, if the legend is to be believed, she could go on to other dimensions as well. What was she called now? No, I can't remember, but it doesn't matter. The point is you have this unusual aura about you, and so did she; the Cusp seems to invigorate you, as it did her; the weeble bugs didn't attack you, even though you invaded their space and provoked them, as it was with her. I think the weeble bugs may have been confused. As to what you are, I mean."

"Just like me, then."

"Be serious Sean. We need to work out what's happening to you. But we haven't time now. When we get back to our own dimension. We'll sort it out then."

By now they were deep in the forest and it had started raining, the drops drip-splatting down through the canopy.

"Hold on." Sean put a restraining hand on Alareth's arm. "Is that what we're searching for? That light shining through the trees?"

"Yes. I think it is."

"Wait." Sean halted Alareth again as she pressed forward. "Perhaps I'd better go alone. There's no point in both of us risking our lives."

"Well, you know what you can do with that stupid suggestion, don't you?"

***

Sticking his spear in the ground, Sean creaked open the door of the cabin, his eyes watering when smoke wafted out. The only light, a fire blazing in a rough hearth in the middle of the room, threw flickering shadows across every surface. It was hard to make anything out in the haze.

"Close the door." The voice had a deep, rumbling quality.

An earthy scent filled the room, like newly turned soil.

Sean waited until Alareth had entered the cabin and kicked the door closed with his foot. The sound it made sent shivers down his back. Although obviously made from flimsy planks, the solid thud had the sound of a thick, iron clad door closing on a prison cell.

"Why have you brought that abomination into my dwelling?"

Trying to locate the speaker, Sean took a few tentative steps nearer the fire. "What do you mean?"

"That thing that fawns by your side. It has no business being here."

Sean's protective sensibilities kicked in and his temper rose. "Watch your mouth! Her name is Alareth. She's a selkie."

"I know what it is, human."

"She's my friend, and you will show some respect towards her, Wraith!"

Sean didn't know where that had come from. Running his hand through his hair, he tried to calm himself, realising the dangerous path he was treading.

An unfathomable laugh echoed round the cabin, throbbing deep in Sean's guts.

A peripheral movement caught his eye, and he turned his head, gasping when a large, black clad shape moved from behind the fire. Its white eyes burnt into his as it stared down at him.

"What are you doing here, human? Tell me why I shouldn't just grind you into the dirt beneath my feet?"

Ignoring the foul smell emanating from the terrifying creature standing over him, Sean wet dry lips. He felt Alareth's hand slip into his, giving him the courage to continue.

"You have something that I want."

"The club?"

Pulling back the sleeve of his black shroud, the Wraith extended a withered, white arm. He began poking the fire with a long, bony, multi-jointed talon.

"I've heard of your quest, human. The Cusp is alive with rumours. You have upset the equilibrium of the forces here."

Eyes flashing, the Wraith withdrew its hand. The flame burning on the talon's tip spluttered and went out, leaving a thin wisp of smoke floating in the air.

Sean twitched his nose at the smell of burning flesh.

"Give me that and I may let you live." The Wraith's still sizzling talon pointed directly at Alareth.

Feeling her tremble, Sean gave Alareth's hand a reassuring squeeze before moving directly in front of her.

"And if you give me the club, I may let you live," Sean retorted, his voice getting stronger with every word.

Again the laugh bounced from corner to corner, shaking the very foundations of the cabin.

"You have come to my land when you have no right. You have used this creature to force your way inside the Cusp. And now you threaten my life, human? For that act alone I should feed you, piece by piece, to the Dire Wolves."

The powerful voice was still ringing in Sean's ears after the Wraith had stopped speaking.

Sean didn't answer, just glared up at the apparition, knowing the power of silence.

The Wraith grunted, pulling Webster's club from beneath its shroud.

Sean's eyes were drawn to the weapon, his gaze focussing on the swirling colours within.

They called to him, as though with Evan's voice.

Forcing his gaze back to the Wraith, Sean tried to see its face, but met only the blackness of a deep well, from the depths of which, two points of white glowing lights studied him.

"The bargain?" Sean asked, voice loud and as confident as he could make it.

"You know the bargain, human. Give it to me, and I will give you this."

"No!" Sean was surprised at the power of his own voice. "There has to be something else a creature like you desires."

"For that impertinence, you will both feel my displeasure!"

Sean realised he had gone too far, and was about to push Alareth back towards the door, when she quickly whispered something in his ear.

"Stay your temper and listen, Wraith," Sean shouted. "I will give you the Golden Shawl in exchange for the club."

The silence that descended on the hut after Sean's outburst was thick and palpable.

It buzzed in his ears, left his skin cold and clammy.

Sean swallowed hard and waited.

Unexpectedly the Wraith laughed again, this time with a softer overtone.

"You would risk the Black Widow's lair? It must mean a lot to you, human."

"She does. Do we have a bargain, Wraith?"

"Yes, but it stays here with me until your return. Fear not," the Wraith continued, picking up on Sean's hesitation. "I'll not harm it. At least, not if you do return. If you do not, well––"

"Do as he says," Alareth whispered in Sean's ear. It's our only chance of survival."

"I agree," Sean snapped at the Wraith.

"As you wish, human. You have until the sun rises twice to bring it to me."

The Wraith swirled its shroud over the fire.

Everything shifted round Sean's head and he was suddenly left standing in the middle of an empty clearing.

The cabin; the fire; the Wraith; Alareth – had all disappeared.

***

A steady rain was falling and Sean was soon wet through.

"Alareth. Alareth," he called, desperation flooding his very core. "Alareth!"

Sean sat in the rain, head bowed, wondering what to do. He had been reliant on Alareth up until now. Taking a deep breath, he fought back his panic and raised his head, letting the rain wash over his face.

Get up you idiot. Sitting here is just making you a target. Get up and find somewhere to shelter until the rain stops.

Standing up, Sean wiped the rain from his face and looked around. Without the fire it was both cold and dark.

"Alareth," he called again, ending her name with a sob.

Bereft, Sean stood in the middle of the clearing, a deep bleakness settling over him. He tried fighting it but sunk even further into its grip with each passing second.

He had failed.

He had nothing now. No club, no Alareth, and no way out of the Cusp.

He had failed miserably.

"Sorry Evan," Sean whispered, not feeling the anger building inside him.

The intensity of it caught him by surprise.

It rose from his guts to spill from his throat.

Head thrown back, he let it out, where it echoed through the forest, bouncing from tree to tree.

Off in the distance a long, low, howl answered him.

Sean turned towards the path they had entered the clearing on. It was the only way he knew for getting out of the dense forest.

He would find shelter, and with the first sun, come up with a way of getting Alareth out of the Wraith's clutches.

Head down, Sean walked through the darkness, his newly found anger strengthening his aura so it lit up the way. It shone now like a beacon.

Prowling the edges of the forest, another being sniffed the air. Something was near. Something making its way through the trees.

### Chapter 30

The rain beat down in torrents, making the ground slippery. If it hadn't been for his spear, Sean would have had more difficulty walking.

The spear felt good in his hand, and he rubbed the ball of his thumb over the small carving Alareth had made in it. As he moved out from under the trees, he wondered if she was okay.

The path topped a low hill and Sean struggled, head bowed, against the sheets of wind-driven water. He was cold and tired. He needed to eat, but at least he had water now. More water than he knew what to do with.

A short while later, the rain eased and the moon moved out from behind the clouds, bathing the ground with its silvery light, making everything stand out in stark black and white.

A low growl sounded and Sean stumbled to a stop, steadying himself on the slippery surface with the end of his spear. He squinted, trying to make out what the shifting shadows ahead of him were.

"Please. Help me!" a soft voice called.

Moving nearer, Sean made out two figures, one crouching over the other. It was impossible to tell what the being on the ground might be because its outline flickered and wavered in the moonlight.

However Sean had no difficulty making out the thing standing over it. Alareth had warned him about these creatures.

It was a ghoul.

Immensely strong, ghouls are disgustingly ugly and stink of death. The cannibalistic monsters sometimes visit other dimensions to feed on corpses or living flesh, abducting young children, or luring away unwary people into abandoned places where they torture and eat them. Luckily they are only able to stay a very short time before being pulled back into the Cusp.

Sensing Sean's presence the ghoul turned, glowering at him, its long, pointed teeth dripping saliva.

At first Sean thought it was crouched over its victim, but when it moved he saw it had a usual stance. Scrunched up, it sat on its heels like an enormous toad, its powerful thighs raised up by its sides, the knees almost touching its shoulders. The long webbed feet sported wickedly hooked talons, and its tail, which ended in a large knob, lashed backwards and forwards, thumping the ground. A squat head, with strange, yellow, three lidded eyes, upright cupped ears and a long dog-like snout, added to the overall picture of power emanating from its deep blue, scaled body.

The ghoul growled again, lips curling back over glistening teeth. Sean had little time to react as its powerful back legs propelled it through the air in an astounding leap for such a large and heavily built creature.

More by luck than judgement Sean managed to evade the slashing talons flashing passed his face.

Landing with a splash, the ghoul slithered forward, leaving long gouges in the ground.

Sean turned to face it, slowly backing away. He was breathing hard, his body alive with adrenaline, the spear clutched tightly in his hands, its sharp point held forwards.

The ghoul twisted to face him again.

"Go. Run!" the soft voice urged from behind him. "Save yourself."

Sean took another step backwards, fetching up against the prone body. Keeping an eye on the ghoul, he reached down and dragged the creature to its feet. The being was surprisingly light.

"Stay behind me," Sean ordered, circling slowly as the ghoul closed in.

The ghoul was obviously wary of Sean and the long spear he carried, but appeared determined to kill him.

Sean picked up on the ghoul's next move by the tensing back legs.

This time it didn't leap, but charged straight at him, the large webbed feet splashing in the mud, the armoured body swaying from side to side due to the creature's awkward gait.

Waiting until the last possible moment, Sean dropped to one knee, thrusting his spear forward, catching the ghoul in one eye.

Roaring, the creature shook its head, gnashing its teeth as it rounded on Sean again.

This time its charge was more calculated, circling out to one side and back so quickly that Sean only just managed to slip out of its way.

Sean had thought he was clear, but the ghoul lashed out with a back foot as it passed.

Twisted around, Sean crashed to the ground on his back. In desperation he threw the spear, watching in fascination as it arced towards the ghoul, spearing one leg through its large muscle.

Roaring its rage, the ghoul pulled the spear out and tossed it aside.

Staggering to his feet, Sean began running as hard as he could.

There was only going to be one ending to this if he hung round any longer.

Hearing the ghoul pounding after him, Sean chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw it was limping. Had the creature been able to leap, Sean's run wouldn't have lasted long. As it was, the horror chasing him was inexorably gaining ground.

Following the path, Sean ran onwards, face twisted with effort as he dragged air into his lungs. He was fast, but the ghoul was faster.

Jumping a low rock, Sean spotted what he was looking for. He had no need to look over his shoulder now to see how near the ghoul was. He could hear it right behind him; smell its foul breath wafting round his head.

Using the last of his energy, Sean put on a spurt.

Yes, there it was ahead of him, just a few strides away.

Hopes rising, Sean leaned forwards, arms spread like a winner breaching the finish tape.

But Sean wasn't quite quick enough. As he slid under the branches of the weeble tree, he felt a blow to his back and a searing pain.

Thrown forward, he fell onto his side, tumbling over and over in the mud.

The ghoul crashed into the branches, roaring its triumph, turning to attack again.

Sean raised a hand in a futile attempt to protect himself.

Then everything went blurry.

***

Mumbling voices woke Sean and he turned his head, groaning when a pain shot down his left side.

"Take it easy," someone said.

Sean recognised the voice. It was the hazy figure the ghoul had attacked.

"Where am I?" he groaned. "What happened? Why can't I see you? Did the ghoul damage my eyesight?"

A soft laugh echoed round him and Sean propped himself up on one elbow, looking about. No, he could see. There was nothing wrong with his eyesight after all.

Sean found himself in a large cave. The sun was shining in through a small opening off to one side. A circle of figures sat round him, one of them tending the remnants of a fire. The smoke rose in a lazy curl, filling the cave with an aroma of smouldering oak.

Sitting up, Sean looked at the fire. So the Wraith wasn't the only creature here who could make fire. That was interesting.

Rubbing his eyes with thumb and forefinger, Sean shook his head. "Why can't I see you?"

"Because we are blurrs," the figure by his side answered. "We are the almost dead, held here in the Cusp by our entanglements. We cannot eat or drink, so over time we are absorbed. In the meantime we are hunted by the rest of those living here. We cannot protect ourselves, so are easy prey for them."

Closing his eyes, Sean lay back down.

"Here, drink this."

The blurr held out a hollowed stone.

Taking it, Sean wet his lips. "What happened?" he asked. "The last thing I remember was being hit by that ghoul."

"Your plan worked. At least I think it was a plan?"

Easing himself into a sitting position again, Sean nodded. "Yes, I was hoping the ghoul would flounder into the weeble tree and dislodge the bugs."

"And that's exactly what happened. The weeble bugs attacked it, even through the tough scales covering its body. Its screams were terrible. I'll remember them until I cease to exist. It begged me to end its torment."

"And did you?"

"Yes, I killed it with your spear."

Turning, the blurr picked something up.

Sean saw the bloody stains on the end of his spear.

"I stabbed it down its throat."

"You saved my life," Sean said in a quiet voice. "For that I thank you, blurr."

"And you saved mine."

"Do you have a name?"

"My name is Carli van Spronsen. I'm Dutch, or rather I was Dutch. But I'm not sure what I am right now."

"Carli. That's a nice name. I'm Sean." Sean held out his hand, then chuckled as he realised what he had done. "Sorry, old habits die hard."

Sean was getting more accustomed to the wavering figure standing before him now, and though still difficult to see, she had begun to take on a partial shape.

"Turn over and let me see your wound. Nassim over there dressed it for you. He was a doctor before he died."

As Carli lifted the bandage Nassim had fashioned from his shirt, Sean sucked in his breath.

"It's looking a lot better now. Far better than I would have thought."

"It was the chova roots I dug up," a deep voice said from across the cave.

"Hang on, and I'll change the dressing," Carli said.

Sean heard the tearing of cloth and felt something being spread on his back.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, but I've got to make sure it's clean. Do you think you can sit up so I can tie this off round your chest?"

Sean struggled up, sitting crossed legged on the floor.

As Carli worked on his wound Sean worried. He was running out of time and if he didn't get the Golden Shawl soon, Alareth might die, alone and in terrible pain.

Finished, Carli patted him on the shoulder. Her touch was so light he almost didn't feel it.

"That's about all we can do, Sean. How do you feel?"

Bracing his hand against the rock wall, Sean pushed himself to his feet, easing the kinks out of his back. He felt weak.

"Not too bad, considering."

"You're strange. Not like us blurrs. What are you doing here?"

"Trying to save my friend's life. Well two friends' lives actually."

Sean took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His ribs hurt, but the pain was not unbearable. He was lucky to be alive.

"Can you hand me my spear? It's time I went. Thank you all for your help. I don't know what I'd have done without it."

Carli handed Sean the spear. "Where are you going?"

Taking the spear, Sean rubbed the carving, wondering where Alareth was right then. Could she see him, hear him perhaps?

"I'm not sure. But I have to find the Black Widow's cave."

Overlapping whispers reverberated round Sean as the blurrs spoke to each other. He could hear the wonder and concern in their voices.

Finally, Carli broke away from the group and stood in front of him. He could just make out some features: depressions where her eyes should be, ghostly movements when she spoke, the faded outline of her hair.

"You can't go there," Carli said. "Other than the Wraith and bodjak, she's the most dangerous individual in the Cusp. Very dangerous and very deadly."

"I have no choice. If I don't get the Golden Shawl, my friends die."

"Rather die than face that monstrosity!"

Walking to the cave opening, Sean looked out. "How did you get me here?"

"It was difficult but we all helped."

"Why?"

"Because it's said that one will come to the Cusp, and this one will change it forever."

Sean laughed. "Well Carli, that may be true, but I can assure you that this one is not that one."

"Let me help you," she suddenly blurted out.

Another murmur spread round the cave and a few blurrs got to their feet.

"Help how?" Sean asked, searching her face.

She looked up at him, her skin swirling like soft smoke. "I know the way to the monster's lair."

"You can't go Carli," a voice called. "You'll be killed."

"I'm dying anyway."

"But there is always the hope of disentanglement and movement on to the next dimension. If you do this you will definitely cease to be."

Ignoring the concordant comments flowing round her, Carli looked hard into Sean's eyes. "Let me help you."

"As you wish. Come on then," Sean answered, leading the way from the cave.

### Chapter 31

Carli explained that the cave was perhaps half a day's walk towards the sun from where they now stood. They strode out at a fast pace, Sean impatient to get his hands on the shawl.

"What happened to you, Carli?" Sean asked sometime later. "How did you end up in here?"

"I was killed by a hit and run driver. I was crossing the road with my four-year-old son. It came out of nowhere. I managed to push Demsas out of the way but the car ran me down."

"And your son is your entanglement? He's what keeps you here?"

"Yes, Demsas. I miss him so, so much. It hurts just to think about him. At first I could pass through and see him, even talk to him at times. But his father began worrying when Demsas told him that he could see and talk to me. In the end, I kept out of sight, just happy to follow him around and watch him. But then slowly, over time, it became harder and harder to cross over and I started realising something was happening to me.

"Eventually, I met up with a group of other blurrs and they explained about the Cusp and how to survive in here. We spend our time now trying to keep alive, in the hopes that one day we'll pass on to a better life."

"It must have been hard for you. To see your son and be unable to give him a hug."

"It was, Sean, but harder now that I can't see him at all. You know, I'm so frightened. All the time frightened. Frightened of all the creatures in here. Frightened how painful it will be dying. Frightened about what will happen when I cease being. I mean, when this phase of my existence finishes, will I still exist, do you think?"

Sean stopped walking and turned to Carli, cupping her face in his hands. "Are those tears I see, Carli?"

"You can see them?"

"Just," replied Sean, wiping her cheek with his thumb.

"What is happening to me?"

"I'm not sure Carli, but you seem to be loosing your vagueness."

"It's you. It must be. You're doing something to me."

Sean shook his head. "Sorry Carli, but I think you're just clutching at straws. Perhaps you ate something?"

"No. It's you. I know it is. Whatever you say."

"Please Carli, don't torture yourself this way." Turning, Sean sighed deeply. "Come on, we've still got a long way to go."

***

During their hike, Sean asked what Carli knew about the Black Widow.

She was silent for a long time, and then looked up at the bright sky.

"Long, long ago," she began in a detached voice, as though remembering something from her past life. "legend has it that when Eirianwen first entered the Cusp as a young, dead girl, aged 14, the Wraith, charmed by her beauty, fell in love and forced her to marry him against her will. The poor girl was so unhappy and desperate that one night she stole away and gathered the venom of three thousand spiders, which she gave to the Wraith in a drink. Unfortunately for her, the poison did not kill him.

"Instead his skin broke out in large blistering, oozing ulcers, which caused him so much pain that he almost went mad. Discovering what his bride had done, the Wraith condemned her to dwell in a large cave, the entrance of which he blocked with a huge stone. With nothing else to eat, Eirianwen kept herself alive by consuming the spiders she found there.

"Slowly, over the eons, Eirianwen turned into a half spider, half woman, hybrid of enormous strength, and finally, now able to move the stone aside, she emerged into the Cusp, vowing to kill and eat the Wraith, and any other creature she came across.

"From that time onwards, Eirianwen dwelt in the cave, weaving a web across the entrance at night to keep out the nocturnal creatures roaming the plains, while she weaved her strange creations deep inside her cave. It is rumoured that the best of these, the Golden Shawl, has magical properties.

"During the day she roams the plains eating anything she happens upon, or carries them back to her cave for later consumption. Every creature in the Cusp rightly fears her deadly bite, even the Wraith."

"Wow, that's some tale," Sean said.

"Tale or not, it's madness to go up against such a monster."

"Madness or not," Sean replied in a vague tone. "It's a madness I have no choice but to follow."

***

"There it is," Carli whispered.

They were both laying on their stomachs, heads raised just far enough to get a good view of the cave over the rise.

"And she's out hunting during the day?"

Carli shrugged. "That's what they say."

"Hang on here and I'll go take a closer look."

Getting to his feet, Sean ran down the hill, fetching up against the rock face to one side of the cave entrance. It was bigger than it had appeared back up the rise.

Reaching out, Sean plucked one of the main threads of the web. It twanged, shaking the whole structure. Nothing happened so he did it again, much harder this time. The web vibrated wildly, creating a loud humming noise. If there was anything in the cave, there was no doubting it would have heard it.

Waiting for a few minutes, Sean crouched beside the cave opening, listening hard. Finally, building up his courage, he reached out and touched one of the circular threads running round the web, with the tip of his finger.

As he thought, it was extremely sticky. He would need to be very careful not to get caught up in it. Returning to the main thread again, Sean pulled at it, trying to break it free, but all he did was cut one of his fingers.

The thread was just too strong to break. Perhaps he could detach it from the rock instead?

Picking up his spear, Sean slid the tip between the thread and the rock face. To his surprise the thread melted away when the tip of the spear touched it.

Raising his eyebrows, Sean tried a different place, and once again the thread parted, leaving one corner of the structure collapsed in on itself.

Well Alareth, I don't know what you've made here, but it sure is a great help.

Sean ran back to Carli.

"Listen, I'm going in to try and find the shawl. Will you stay out here and shout if you see anything? Here, I'll leave my spear in case you need it."

Carli frowned, holding out her hand. "Look," she said.

Sean looked at her hand and realised that he could actually see it. In fact he could see most of her now.

When Carli's saw the look on Sean's face she gave a wide smile. Stroking one hand with the other, she laughed quietly. Then she began stroking her arms and running her hands up and down her body.

"Look Sean, look. Can you see my face yet?"

"Yes Carli, I can. But I must go now. Stay safe and keep watch for me, okay?"

Not waiting for an answer, Sean ran back to the cave and slipped behind the web.

***

The cave was dark and dank, the sandstone rock faces glistening and wet. As Sean went deeper into the cave, his aura grew stronger, lighting his way.

All along the bottom edges of the walls were little piles of bones and oddly shaped skulls. Hanging from the ceiling at regular intervals were bundles bound in thread.

Looking closer Sean felt sick when he realised these were web-wrapped bodies.

He was standing right in the middle of the Black Widow's larder!

Pushing on, Sean entered a large, high cavern. His aura wasn't strong enough to reach the roof, and it felt like a black hole was hanging over him.

Leading off the main cavern were two tunnels that appeared to be carved from the solid sandstone. Littered across the floor of these were thousands of small flint chips.

Could it be possible that this creature had hewn these tunnels herself? If so, how long had she been here to be able to do that?

Sean stopped at the end the first tunnel, stooping to examine the grass, leaves and ferns piled at the end. Was this where she slept, or was the bed for some other creature?

Shrugging, Sean walked back to the main cavern and made his way into the other tunnel. The end of this tunnel widened out into a circular room.

Carved into the walls were large openings. Sean examined one, his pulse rate climbing. Nestling in an indentation at the bottom of the niche was an item of clothing.

Checking more niches, Sean found cloaks, shirts, skirts, trousers and other items he couldn't place, all woven from the thinnest of thin threads. Pulling one out, he hefted it in his hand. It was feather-light, the patterns so intricate that they made his head spin.

Standing in the centre of the room, Sean turned round. There were thousands of niches, maybe hundreds of thousands, each with its own treasure.

Running from niche to niche, Sean began pulling out the contents, dropping them to the floor when he saw they weren't the item he was searching for.

Some of the items were spun from spider's web, others from what appeared to be fine metal.

Sean searched for what seemed like hours, sweat pouring down his face as he climbed upwards from niche to niche. He had almost given up hope when he finally found it.

The Golden Shawl was hidden away, far from the entrance, in a tiny room of its own, leading off the tunnel.

Holding his breath, Sean held it up, admiring the work that must have gone into making such a beautiful thing. The spinning was exquisite, each individual thread turning back on itself so many times that the eye couldn't follow it for more than a few millimetres at time.

Taking off his coat, Sean folded the shawl inside, securing the bundle by tying the sleeves together. Standing up, he took one last look at the niche room, then headed back to the cave entrance.

When he got there, Sean pushed the bundle through the hole in the web and began to push through himself.

A sudden pain brought Sean to his knees.

Then, pulled backwards, he was lifted into the air and thrown against the back wall.

As he fell, Sean managed to get his feet under him. Even so, the landing was hard and winded him.

Clutching his shoulder, Sean felt a warmness that could only be blood.

Hearing a scuffling sound, he span round, squinting towards the light flooding in through the entrance.

Silhouetted against the brightness was the biggest spider Sean had ever seen, could have ever imagined.

The creature was at least two and a half metres tall at the abdomen. But there was something odd about its shape, and it stood on six legs, not eight.

It moved, turning its body with a strange shuffling gait, making soft rustling noises as it did so.

Now Sean had a better view and was able to see the two missing legs. They were the arms of the top half of the woman attached to the spider's thorax – where the monstrosity's head should have been.

The woman's arms and body were a deep black; her arms ending in claws. It was obviously one of these that had caused the injury to Sean's shoulder.

Staring up at the creature's face, Sean backed away, fetching up against the rock wall, knowing he was about to die.

He dodged sideways: the spider-woman followed.

It was then, when the light hit her face, that he saw she had deep, black holes where her eyes should have been. Her mouth moved constantly, although no noise issued from the writhing lips.

The creature's whole body was covered with long, spiky hairs that grew extra thick on its legs. It gave off a musky smell, reminiscent of that from meal worms.

Without taking his gaze from it, Sean edged his way along the wall towards the cave opening, guiding himself with his hands. The creature turned slowly, following his movements.

It soon became obvious to Sean that the Black Widow was playing with him.

She had been waiting until he reached the web covering the entrance before she struck.

But instead of pulling him back into the cave this time, she pushed him forward into the sticky threads.

Sean unexpectedly found himself entangled in the web, and no matter how hard he struggled, he only succeeded in tangling himself further.

The creature watched him for a few minutes, its body pulsing in time with its breathing. Then it came nearer, plucking him from the web.

Sean screamed as the claws closed round his arms, kicking out with his feet.

But it was useless, because no matter how hard he kicked and struggled, the big shiny sting sliding out from the Black Widows tail, moved closer and closer to his chest.

### Chapter 32

Cracking open his eyes, Sean cursed the pain pounding in his head.

Blinking his eyes, he tried shaking his head but couldn't move it.

What was going on? It felt like his head was stuck in a pillowcase. No, something a lot tighter than a pillowcase.

Sean could still breathe but only just.

He was tied up.

No wait, the spider-woman. Yes, she had stung him, and he had collapsed, but it must have been some sort of anaesthetic, and not poison.

God, he had been bundled up in a cocoon of spider's web and hung up for later!

Sean pushed his face against the side of the cocoon, and through the haze could just make out other cocoons hanging round him.

Throwing his body from side-to-side, he managed to get his cocoon swinging.

Sean kept at it, slowly increasing the arc, until eventually his cocoon began banging against the others. He reasoned that if he did it hard enough, he would be able to knock himself free.

It was a fair drop to the ground, but the cocoon should give him some protection. At least that was his hope.

Sean continued banging his cocoon against the others, but no matter how hard he hit them, it was always the other cocoon that fell first.

He was rapidly running out of cocoons now. Just one left.

Sean had managed to break away the cocoon in front of his face with his teeth, and could see a lot better in the gloom.

Beginning his next swing, Sean started banging against the last cocoon.

Sean had only hit the cocoon a couple of times when he heard a strange growling coming from inside it.

The next bump produced a long howl that ending in a series of yelps.

Sean stopped swinging, letting the cocoons settled down, staring as hard as he could.

Something was moving inside the other cocoon, and whatever it was in there, was making a series of yelps and growls as it fought to free itself.

Looking down at the floor, Sean's eyes widened in horror as he saw the carnage he had caused.

Most of the cocoons had split open when they landed, spewing their contents all over the ground. The smell nearly choked him.

Pulling his head back in, Sean tried to think of a different solution. The one he had chosen was obviously not going to work for him.

Falling into a half-slumber, Sean wondered how long it would be before the Black Widow got hungry and wanted her dinner.

It was a lot sooner than he had bargain for, because a few minutes later he heard a scratching sound somewhere off to his left.

Sean couldn't turn his head far enough to see what was making the sounds, but perhaps he didn't really want to know anyway.

***

"What's happened in here? What's that horrible smell? Oh no, I've stepped in it. Erg!"

"Carli? Is that you?"

"Sean? Where are you?"

"Look up."

"Wow, is that you up there?"

"Get me out, but be careful. I don't want to break a leg, or land on my head. Cut round the bottom of the cocoon with the tip of the spear."

Sean felt the cocoon shaking and dug his elbows into its sides as hard as he could so he wouldn't fall when the bottom of the cocoon detached.

A couple of minutes later he felt a cool breeze flow upwards over his body and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, I can see your feet now, Sean. You should be able to wriggle free."

Pulling in his elbows, Sean dropped out of the cocoon, straight on top of Carli.

They both collapsed into the muck and mire covering the floor.

"Jesus H Christ!" Sean cursed, trying to brush off the worst of the slime.

Carli smiled up at him.

Sean couldn't make out her face, but this time it was because it was covered in glop.

"Here, take my hand."

Sean pulled Carli to her feet and hugged her. "I thought I was a goner there, Carli. Thanks. What happened to the Black Widow?"

"She left a little while ago. I came in to see what had happened to you. Did you get what you were looking for?"

Sean patted his shirt. "Yeah. It's tucked away nice and safe in here."

"Good. Let's get out of here before that thing comes back and eats us both."

Sean stopped Carli and retrieved his spear. "Hang on a minute."

Walking over to the last cocoon, he carefully cut round the bottom.

As the last threads broke, something dropped to the floor. It stood stunned for a moment, then shook its head and ran for the cave entrance, so fast that Sean didn't get a clear look at it. He just had an overall impression of something red and squat, with a long, thin tail.

"You're welcome," Sean shouted after it.

"That was a bodjak," Carli whispered. "Make sure it's gone before we go outside. You don't know how close we just came to dying, Sean. We're really lucky."

"You think so? Don't kid yourself," Sean mumbled, picking the last of the cocoon and gloop out of his hair.

***

They had been walking for quite a while, searching for somewhere to spend the night. Coming across a stream, they cleaned themselves up a bit, washing the muck off each others backs as best they could.

As they set out again, Sean kept giving Carli surreptitious glances.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Sorry. It's just that you're really nice looking."

"So?"

"Just saying." Sean went back to walking, unaware that his comment had made his companion begin to re-evaluate him.

"Do you like women, Sean?"

"Of course. What sort of question is that?"

"I was just wondering. Given your earlier comment."

Sean suddenly realised what was wrong.

"Oh, hey. I didn't mean anything by what I just said. I was just trying to be sociable, that's all."

"If you say so."

"No, really. I meant, now that I can see you properly, you look–" Sean stumbled to a stop.

Carli giggled. "Dig, dig, Sean."

Sean began walking again, in silence, wondering how to apologise without actually apologising.

"Sean?"

"Ahuh?"

"I think we're being followed."

They both stopped, looking around, trying to make out any danger there might be in the falling darkness.

"Can't hear anything," Sean whispered. "Are you sure?"

Carli shook her head. "It's just a feeling." She shivered.

"Over there," Sean whispered back, pointing towards a jumble of rocks.

"I can't see anything."

"The rocks." Sean pulled Carli's arm. "Come on. We can make a shelter there."

Half an hour later they were sheltering under a shaky looking bivouac. It wasn't rainproof, but would hopefully keep out any predators.

"Here," Sean said, holding out some wrigglers he had dug up.

Shaking her head, Carli gave a sad smile. "Blurrs can't eat, Sean. But thanks anyway."

Sean chewed thoughtfully. "Now your stronger, do you think you'll be able to get back and see your son again?"

Carli shook her head. "I don't think I can get back again, Sean. Anyway, I'll probably get weaker again pretty soon."

"You're convinced it's me, aren't you?"

Carli nodded, settling back onto the soft earth, hands linked behind her head.

Sean lay down beside her and was soon in a deep sleep.

Carli didn't sleep. Instead, she laid quietly, thinking about her son and the life she used to have.

### Chapter 33

"We're nearly at the place we set out from Sean. It'll be nice being with my friends again."

"Oh, thanks a bunch."

Carli smiled. "Well, everywhere you go, you manage to create chaos. It'll make a change to get back to some semblance of sanity."

Pursing his lips, Sean nodded. "Guess you could be right about that. By the way, there's something I've got to collect before we get back to the cave, if that's okay with you?"

"Sure."

"Come on then, I think we can get to it this way."

Rounding a high hill, Sean struck out across the grass. "Yes, I can see it, way over there."

"Sean?"

"Look, just in front of that rise."

"Sean!"

Stopping, Sean turned back. Carli was standing stock still, her white face showing the terror she was feeling. In fact she was trembling so much, Sean feared she might collapse.

"Carli what is it?"

Unable to speak, Carli pointed with a shaky finger.

Sean gasped when he saw what she was pointing at.

Standing a short way off was a bodjak. Its short, red fur stood on end. The big eyes, with their small, light blue pupils, half covered by shaggy eyebrows watched them warily. A large, head with upright ears, short pig like snout, and chin hanging down its chest in folds, gave it a comical look.

In another world it might have been mistaken for some kind of weird looking dog.

However, what made the bodjak so feared inside the Cusp, beside its speed, were the two, long, curved canine teeth protruding down passed its bottom jaw.

The bodjak moved forward a step, growling low in its throat, lips pulled back, showing even more of its teeth.

"I think it's going to attack us Carli. Get ready to run."

"No, don't move Sean. Stay exactly where you are."

Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Sean was surprised to see Carli was looking down at her feet instead of at the bodjak.

"We're standing in the middle of a spikenwold field," she whispered.

A fat snake-like thing, with a bulbous head, was winding its way over the ground towards him. Sean let his gaze run along the undulating body, back to a large hole in the ground. The hole was circled with a set of long spikes, opening and closing in a regular rhythm.

"It finds you by the vibrations you make, so keep very still."

Sean saw the head of the spikenwold lift upwards and swing in her direction when she spoke. He coughed loudly, and the head swung back towards him.

"Where's its mouth? If I can spear it, maybe I can kill it," Sean whispered.

The spikenwold elongated, moving closer.

"No good. That lump on the end is not a mouth. It's the spikenwold's tongue, which is extremely sticky. It shoots out and sticks to you. Then it pulls you back into its mouth."

The bodjak began growling again and the spikenwold's tongue suddenly shot out towards it, travelling so fast Sean couldn't follow the movement. Luckily for the bodjak the bulbous tongue fell just short of where it was standing.

"How far can that thing go?"

"Not quite as far as where the bodjak is. Which is probably why it stopped there in the first place?"

Sean's hands were sweating. He clutched his spear tighter, looking around, spotting two more spikenwolds slithering about. The silent way the creatures hunted was eerie and made him shiver.

When Carli gave an unexpected scream, Sean turned and saw she had been struck on the back of the neck.

Carli was being pulled backwards over the ground, struggling desperately, trying to free herself, crying out in pain as the creature pulled at her skin.

Jumping over the nearest spikenwold, Sean grabbed Carli around the waist, digging in his heels. Two more spikenwolds began slithering towards them.

Carli was pulled from her feet, and Sean went down with her, hanging on tightly. But it made little difference because they were both being dragged across the ground towards the waiting maw.

No matter how hard Sean tried, he could not stop them being pulled nearer and nearer to the sharp looking teeth, which were moving faster now, in the expectation of a juicy meal.

Carli cried out again, her hands over her head, grabbing at the spikenwold's tongue.

"Hang on Carli," Sean shouted, letting go and scrabbling to his feet.

Running to the maw he began stamping on the writhing tongue with the heel of his shoe.

"Come on, come on you bastard. Let go of her!"

Giving up on that plan, Sean glanced over to where he had dropped his spear. Taking a chance, he ran for it, praying he would make it back in before Carli disappeared into the maw.

Skidding to a stop, Sean grabbed up the spear, twisted on his heels and headed back, running as he had never run before.

Carli was now almost at the maw, perhaps half a metre away. Jumping the last few metres, Sean landed feet astride the fast disappearing tongue, teetering on the edge of the hole. Plunging the spear downward, he leant his full weight on it.

As the spear penetrated the spikenwold's flesh, its tongue detached from the back of Carli's neck, whipping back down into the maw with a sharp crack. The creature gave an undulating screeching cry that stung Sean's ears.

Pulling Carli to her feet, Sean pushed her. "Quick, get as far away as you can."

Turning back, Sean then made a grab for his spear, which had pulled free from the tongue and now lay across the hole.

Snatching it up, he made a mad dash towards Carli, who was now standing beyond the range of the spikenwolds, next to the bodjak.

"I'm coming," he shouted.

But Sean hadn't moved quite fast enough and a hard thump on his thigh knocked him to the ground. He fell awkwardly, his spear spinning out of his grasp. The fall knocked the breath from his lungs, and it was a few seconds before he could react.

In those few seconds he was dragged dangerously near to another spikenwold's lair.

"Sean!" Carli screamed, starting to run to his aid.

"No. Stay back there!" he shouted at her.

Rolling onto his side, Sean grabbed the tongue above the sticky bulb, tearing at it with his fingernails.

It did little good.

He tried biting at it, but the skin was far too tough.

Sean had been drawn so near the maw now that he could smell the foul stench emanating from the bits and pieces of flesh still caught between the gnashing teeth. Feeling one foot slip across the edge of the hole, Sean quickly flipped over and straddled it, staring straight down into the maw of the creature's waiting gut.

The spikenwold kept up its deadly tug-of-war, slowly pulling Sean down towards the waiting teeth. He struggled as hard as he could, jaws clenched, head thrown back, gasping every breath through clenched teeth, as though it was his last – as it probably soon would be.

Sean was tiring fast, his strength ebbing away, along with his confidence. It looked like this was it.

God, what a shitty way to go!

***

Carli stood with wide eyes; hand over her mouth, tears flowing down her cheeks. Sean was getting drawn further and further into the maw and there was nothing she could do. She hadn't the strength to fight such a monstrosity.

Unexpectedly, the bodjak, that up till now had been standing silently by her side watching the fight, gave a loud howl and bounded towards Sean. In the terror of the moment, Carli had forgotten it was there. Now it tore across the ground, leaping over the waving tongues, snapping at any that came too close.

As it neared Sean, the bodjak rolled itself into a ball, letting its momentum carry it across the last few metres, where it unexpectedly rolled over the edge of the hole, disappearing down into the spikenwold's gullet.

Sean caught a quick flash of red, and then the spikenwold's teeth snapped shut, leaving its tongue protruding from a small hole in the centre.

For a few moments nothing happened and all was quiet. Then Sean heard the sounds of snarling, dulled because it was coming from inside the spikenwold. The tongue kept up its pull, dragging him downwards.

But then, without warning, the tongue detached and Sean fell backwards, banging his head.

Carli ran towards him, breathing hard as she knelt by his side. Grabbing his collar, she began dragging him away from the spikenwold.

Hearing a sound like breaking twigs, she glanced over at the hole, watching in amazement as the bodjak broke through the circle of teeth.

It was covered in gunk and held something in its mouth. As it landed beside Carli, it began worrying the big gob of flesh on the ground, snarling its rage.

Carli was bent double, pulling Sean along as best she could, and while she did so, the bodjak guarded them, snapping at any tongue that ventured too close. Finally, they were clear of the spikenwold field and Carli collapsed beside Sean, leaning back on her hands, breathing hard.

Opening his eyes, Sean smiled up at her. "Thought I was a goner there," he said.

"You would have been if it hadn't been for the bodjak," Carli replied with a wide smile.

Turning his head, Sean slapped his chest. "Hey Red, here boy."

The bodjak bounded over, jumping straight on top of Sean, licking his face with its large, slobbery tongue.

"God you smell like the back end of a camel," Sean said, pushing the bodjak away with a gentle chuckle.

***

Sean sat back against the rock wall, eating the wrigglers he had dug up earlier. Red was out hunting somewhere.

The group of blurrs sitting in the cave when he and Carli wandered in with the bodjak had nearly gone berserk, shouting and screaming as they fell over each other in a mad dash for the exit.

It had taken Carli a long time to persuade them that they wouldn't be hurt as long as Sean was there to protect them. Even so, Sean had to send Red out of the cave in the end because all the blurrs did was sit and stare at him like he was some kind of monster.

Sean smiled whimsically. Actually he thought Red was rather cute.

Sean had done all he could to get ready for his upcoming meeting with the Wraith. He instinctively knew the creature was not to be trusted. Rubbing the tip of his spear with a stone to sharpen it, he swore he would use it on the Wraith if it tried any of its tricks, or had hurt Alareth in any way.

Carli persuaded Sean to stay until morning, pointing out that even with Red's protection, it was still unsafe to go wandering about at night in the Cusp. He had reluctantly agreed, bowing to the wisdom of someone who'd spent many years there.

"Sean, wake up." Carli put a finger to her lips as he opened his eyes. "Come out here, there's something I want to tell you."

Sean yawned and got to his feet. Being careful not to wake the others, he followed Carli out into the moonlight. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, which was full of sparkling stars, and Sean was quickly lost amongst them as he gazed upwards.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Carli said, slipping her arm through his. "I always loved watching the night sky back home."

Sean nodded, and then looked down at her.

Her change was complete. She now looked as solid as he did. Leaning over Sean kissed her forehead.

"Thanks for all your help, Carli. I don't think I'd have managed on my own."

Hugging his arm, Carli smiled. "Probably not," she agreed.

"Hey don't even go there."

Carli gave a giggle, and then dropped his arm. Crossing her own, she hugged herself. "Thank you Sean, you've done so much for me. I really don't have the words to say how much."

Sean could see the tears in the corners of her eyes." Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, you idiot. I'm just happy. I went on a visit tonight."

"No! You mean––?"

Carli nodded, her eyes on the sky. "Yes, I went back one last time, thanks to you. And I was finally able to let go when I saw how peacefully he slept. He looked adorable."

"So now?"

"Now I can feel tomorrow tugging at me."

"When are you going?"

Carli shrugged and turned to him, pulling him close. "Soon now Sean. Soon now."

Then, after kissing him full on the lips, she dropped her embrace, turned and headed back into the cave.

When Sean woke in the morning, Carli had gone. No one had seen her go, but they all knew where she had disappeared to. Carli had left an emptiness behind that the other blurrs were finding it hard to fill.

Sean could feel their resentment building as he too got ready to leave.

Finally, he stepped outside, put his forefinger and thumb into his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. In the distance, Red barked loudly in return. A few minutes later the bodjak came bouncing down the nearest hill, unrolling at the last moment to fling himself into Sean's arms.

"And good morning to you too," Sean said, laughing loudly.

"Bye guys," he called over his shoulder at the small group gathered around the cave entrance. "Don't be too smoky now. It ain't good for your health."

Sean got no response, but then again, he hadn't really expected one.

### Chapter 34

Sean was on familiar ground now: having passed the weeble tree, he knew the path to take.

Checking the bundle was safely tucked away in what was left of his shirt, he stopped for a moment letting his gaze sweep the countryside ahead. After his last encounter, he was wary of meeting another ghoul.

Setting out again, Sean let his mind wander, wondering where Carli might be right then. Perhaps in a world completely different from the one she had known: maybe a world where the inhabitants had finally found a peaceful way to live together? He hoped so, because Carli had brought something into his life that was hard to define. During the short time he had known her, Sean had developed a deep closeness with Carli and he hoped, wherever she was, she was happy.

Red had run off some time ago, his whip-like tail curled over his back, running across the sparse grass like a red streak. Sean shook his head. That animal, whatever it was, could really move when it wanted to. Pity it looked so comical, though. The loose folds of fat and skin under its chin bounced up and down as it ran, at times almost flopping back over its head.

Stopping for a short rest by a shallow stream, Sean dug up a few wrigglers and sat crossed legged eating them. He could just see the first of the trees making up the forest ahead. Not too long now. It made sense to regain some of his strength before tackling the Wraith, even though he was impatient to get back to Alareth.

During the past few days, Sean had thought a lot about her and what he was going to do when they got back to their own dimension. He knew now that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Have kids. Be like a normal couple.

He chuckled at that thought.

Sean knew the old tales about selkies marrying humans, but something about keeping Alareth from her own world didn't sit comfortably with him. Stroking the package under his shirt, his mind wandered again. The Golden Shawl was supposed to have magical properties. Would it be possible to use it to change him so that he could live in her world, perhaps?

Smiling, Sean imagined what it would be like to swim in the sea. Dive deep down into the darkness, where strange fish lived. Would it be like flying, maybe? And what would their children be like if they had any there?

Seals?

Sean wasn't too sure he wanted to follow that particular line of thought through to its conclusion.

A sharp bark brought Sean out of his revelry. Opening his eyes, he jumped to his feet, looking for Red. Unfortunately for Sean, he was looking in the wrong direction, because before he knew what was happening, something hit him square in his back, throwing him forward onto his face. Spitting mud, Sean turned over, hiking himself up on one elbow.

Red's tongue made short work of cleaning things up as he jumped on his new friend's chest and began licking his face.

***

Sean stopped short of the clearing, studying the cabin from behind a tree. Everything appeared as it had the last time he had been here, but something felt off.

Red gave a soft growl, the fur on his back standing erect.

"Okay boy. Take it easy." Sean reassured him with a pat on the head.

The bodjak looked up at him, tongue lolling from its mouth.

"Seems okay." Sean watched for a few more minutes, and then shrugged. "Nothing to be gained from just standing out here, I guess. What do you think, boy?"

Red looked at the cabin, another soft rumble building in his throat.

"Maybe you're right, but what choice do I have? You stay here while I go have a look see. No . . . stay," Sean ordered, pointing at the ground when Red began following him.

Wetting dry lips, Sean walked across the clearing, heading straight for the door.

No sense mucking around. The Wraith probably already knew he was here anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Sean pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The scene was the same. The fire wafted when he slammed the door closed behind him, the smoke billowing out around his head. Waving a hand in front of his face, Sean stepped to one side for a clearer view.

The Wraith studied him with its piercing white gaze. "Welcome back human. I thought you were going to stand out there all day, dithering. Do you have what I want?"

Sean looked around the cabin. "Where's Alareth? Why's she not here?"

"Be still, human. She is safe. Give me the Golden Shawl, and I will free her."

Sean hesitated. What guarantee did he have that the Wraith was telling the truth?

"Hurry now. Before I change my mind."

Sean felt a strange itching sensation inside his head. Frowning, he rubbed his forehead.

Suddenly everything around him was still, like a frozen video: even the flames of the fire and the curling smoke had ceased their restless movements.

Shaking his head, Sean looked at the Wraith. "What are you doing to me?"

"He can't hear you Sean."

Snapping his head from side to side, Sean curled his hands at his sides, his pulse pounding in his ears.

"Alareth? Is that you? Where are you?"

"Shh. I haven't much time Sean. I don't know where I am exactly. Only that the Wraith used Webster's club to rid himself of me. Even as we speak my energy is fading."

Sean felt the shock hit him, flooding his body. "He killed you? But why would he do such a thing?"

"No, not killed. He banished me to another dimension. But don't feel sad for me Sean. It's beautiful here. The sea stretches on forever. It's deep and warm, full of fish." Alareth's voice was losing its vibrancy with each sentence.

"I'll come to you Alareth. Just tell me how."

"You cannot. No, listen Sean, you must get the club and leave right away." Her voice was so weak Sean had trouble understanding what she was saying.

"But how do I get back through the quicksand without you?"

"The answer to that lies in Webster's Cosh, as it always did."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Goodbye my love."

Sean could only just make out the fading words above the pounding in his ears.

"Well human? What are you waiting for? Why do you just stand there like a half-dead blurr?"

Sean blinked, turning his attention back to the Wraith. "What?"

"The shawl. Give it to me."

Tearing open his shirt, Sean threw the package at the Wraith's feet.

"Here, take it and much good may it do you. Now give me the cosh, as we bargained."

Picking up the package the Wraith pulled one edge free and slipped a bony hand inside. Sean held his breath, waiting to see what would happen.

The Wraith groaned, and then suddenly snapped his hand back out, dropping the package on the floor. The weeble beetle Sean had put into the package earlier was firmly attached to one wrinkled talon.

"What have you done, human?" The Wraith murmured as it crumpled, dropping to the floor in a heap.

Sean watched as the light in the Wraith's eyes began to fade. He knew it wouldn't die from one weeble bite, but the poison would certainly incapacitate him for some time, and that was all Sean needed.

Walking over, Sean kicked the Wraith as hard as he could, and again, and again.

With each kick Sean's temper rose, filling his mind with a black hatred.

"Die you bastard!" he screamed.

Grabbing the front of the Wraith's cloak, Sean shook the creature as hard as he could.

"Why did you do that? I got you what you wanted, and you still took her from me. Who would do that?"

Sean continued shaking the Wraith, banging its head off the floor, now completely out of control, murder in his heart.

Outside the cabin, the bodjak looked to the bright moon, threw back its head and howled, over and over again.

Inside the cabin, Sean fell to his knees, sobbing, as his anger suddenly dissipated. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he sat back on his heels, listening to Red. There was something terribly primeval about the noise the bodjak was making.

Something had called Sean back from the very edge of darkness.

Slowly getting to his feet, he looked down at the Wraith and spat on him. Then turning, he grabbed the package containing the Golden Shawl and headed for the door, but stumbled when his foot hit something.

Looking down, Sean's eyes widened in wonder and his heart stopped for a moment.

There on the floor, still rolling back and forth from the kick, was Webster's club. All the shaking must have caused it to fall from the Wraith's cloak.

Snatching it up, Sean ran for the door, flung it open and hurried outside.

When he appeared, Red stopped his interminable howling and came to his side.

"Come on boy. We're getting out of here before the Wraith wakes up again."

***

Sean stopped, bending over to grab his knees, gasping deeply. He had run fast and hard, putting as much distance between himself and the cabin as possible. Ahead, Red skidded to a halt too, looking back at him, as if to say, 'Come on slowcoach'.

Holding up his hand, Sean took one last deep breath and straightened up, massaging his back. Red trotted back to him, whining, looking back the way they had come.

"What is it boy. You hear something?"

Red just trotted off, stopping a couple of metres away to look back at him again.

"Okay, okay," Sean grumbled. "I'm coming. Give a man a break."

The moon was low in the sky now, a bright red slash on the horizon warning of dawn's approach.

At least there won't be so much danger about now the sun's coming up.

Red whined, trotting on a bit farther before stopping again. Sean tutted and set out after him.

The quietness that had fallen on the forest during the night began to disappear as the sound of insects and birds grew. If Sean had closed his eyes, he could have been in any wood back home.

It was a pleasant thought, but how to get there?

Alareth had told him the answer lay in Webster's cosh, but what did that mean?

Pulling the cosh from his belt, Sean examined it, turning it this way and that, but was at a loss. The cosh was inert. No lights swirling about inside now; nothing. Sighing, Sean stuffed the cosh back down between his belt and trousers and concentrated on finding his way out of the forest.

Dawn broke surprisingly fast in the Cusp and it wasn't long before the sun rose, casting long shadows through the trees. Sean could smell the resin as the forest began heating up, feel the whole place coming to life.

"What is it, boy?" Sean walked up to where Red had stopped. The bodjak had its nose in the air.

Following Red's gaze, Sean could just make out the edge of the forest a short distance ahead.

"Come on then. First one there's a wriggler," Sean called, hurrying on.

Red followed at a slower pace, his head twisting from side to side as he tested every scent.

Reaching the edge of the forest, Sean ran a short way out onto the grass, held his arms high and twirled round like a little boy.

"Hey Red," he called. "we made it out of the forest."

Red watched Sean and snorted his disapproval.

Sean laughed at the bodjak's antics, found the path and set out at a fast pace, reinvigorated by the sunshine.

Red looked back for a moment, sneezed, and then ran on ahead.

"Hey, where you going, boy?" Sean called after the fast disappearing bundle of red fur with the big bouncing chin.

Red didn't answer. Not so much as a growl or a snort. He had reached the top of the hill they had been climbing, and now stood stock still, watching the three Ghouls spread out across the path below.

### Chapter 35

Donna checked the corridor again, closing the door quietly when she found it empty. Digging in her bag she took out a syringe and sat beside Evan's bed, looking at his face.

Would he be okay? Would it hurt him?

Donna was undecided. Her fingers trembled and her heart fluttered as she held the syringe, turning it restlessly.

Closing her eyes, she tried composing herself.

Help me, Evan. Give me the strength to do this, so we can be together again.

Opening her eyes, she watched Evan's face closely, looking for any changes in his breathing.

Donna finally pulled the safety cover from the syringe, her hands trembling so badly that she almost stuck herself with the needle. Dropping the cover on the bed, she stood up. Her heart was beating so rapidly now that she felt dizzy and had to grab the bedside cabinet to steady herself.

Overcome, Donna sat back down, fighting the panic in her chest. Shaking her head to clear the tears streaming down her face, she sniffed back the snot threatening a deluge at any moment. Then taking a deep breath, she got to her feet and walked on shaky legs round the bed to the drip stand. Holding the bag in one hand she brought the tip of the needle close to the glistening plastic with the other.

Mumbling, "I love you so much Evan," Donna jabbed the needle of the syringe through the bag, and pushed in the plunger before she had the chance to change her mind.

Replacing the cover on the needle, Donna stumbled back and dropped the syringe into her bag.

She felt light-headed; zoned out; everything in the room outlined with a bright haze. Looking at Evan's face, she wavered. This was the last chance – she still had time to alert the staff of what she had done before it was too late.

No Donna, you've got to have the courage of your convictions, otherwise what is life for?

Kissing Evan's warm, dry lips, she took one last look at his handsome face, turned and left the room, her heels tapping out her determination as she headed down the corridor towards the lift.

***

The wind blew in from the east with an unusual sharpness for the time of year. The moon was full, fat, and hanging low in the sky. Dawn would soon push away the night, lighting the sky with welcome warmth.

Donna sat on the low parapet wall surrounding the hospital roof. Removing her shoes she placed them neatly beside her bag, then stood up, the coldness of the asphalt numbing her feet.

It had rained during the night and the world smelt clean for a change. City living had always left her feeling a little grubby; especially the daily tube train journeys.

Stepping up onto the parapet, Donna wondered if their new world would be a better place than this one. Maybe a place where there was room to really live, without the need to always be aware of what your neighbours were doing.

Taking a deep breath, she looked over the edge. It was a long drop. Long enough to end her life, especially it she dove head first, as she intended to.

On the far side of the hospital's carpark, Donna could see the twinkling headlights of cars making their way along Euston Road. The soft hum of the traffic rose round her and she smiled. No matter what time of day it was, London was always busy. It truly never seemed to sleep.

Turning her gaze towards the sky, Donna raised her arms. The majority of the stars were washed out with the city's lights, but one or two had managed to break through. Keeping her eyes glued to the brightest, she thought about Evan, so soon to be by her side again.

Was that his star? Was this Evan giving his permission?

Donna whispered a last, "I love you Evan," and looked down towards the ground, shuffling her feet nearer to the edge.

### Chapter 36

"Come on boy. We'd better go back and find another way," Sean whispered. "The Wraith must have woken up and summoned some reinforcements."

Sean had taken no more than twenty paces back towards the forest when two more ghouls stepped out from behind the treeline in front of them.

Red growled.

Sean turned, spotting another ghoul off to one side. He searched for a way out, not wanting to confront the dangerous creatures, but they had closed right in now, cutting off any escape.

Seven crouching monsters surrounded them, tails lashing the ground.

Red trotted to Sean's side and he rubbed the bodjak's head, feeling the tension in its muscles.

"Guess this is it then boy. Do or die, hey?"

Raising his head, Red gave a soft rumbling growl as he looked up at Sean.

Hefting his spear, Sean threw it at the nearest ghoul. It landed between the creature's legs, tripping it up.

Red was on it in a flash, tearing at its throat.

Running over, Sean recovered his spear, turning just in time to hit another ghoul in the stomach with the blunt end as it attacked him. It doubled over, and then backed off a little way.

A sudden gush of blood signalled Red's arrival as he attacked the ghoul from the rear.

Leaving Red to finish the ghoul off, Sean deftly spun the spear round and carefully launched it in the air again.

His aim was straight and true this time.

The spear rose high before arcing downward, catching another ghoul on its right shoulder at an angle. The spear sliced through the creature's body, pinning it to the ground.

The ghoul slumped down the spear in a heap.

Another beast ran at Sean, and he sidestepped, tripping it. The ghoul fell heavily on its head, its body flicking upwards. Sean heard the snap of breaking bones.

At Red's warning bark, Sean whirled round, just in time to receive a slash across his forehead from the sharp talons that were aimed at the back of his neck.

Blood flooded Sean's eye, and he desperately backed away, wiping it from his face. He could feel a flap of loose skin just above one eye.

Having no other weapon, Sean pulled out the cosh. The ghoul, obviously spurred on by the sight of blood, attacked him again.

Sean stood his ground, waiting for the last possible moment before he turned and ran. The ghoul followed, gaining ground fast.

Judging the distance to the last millimetre, Sean threw himself to the floor. His attacker, unable to stop, tripped on Sean's prone body.

Jumping to his feet, Sean brought down the club with as much force as he could. The ghoul's head exploded like a watermelon, spraying bits of flesh and brains everywhere.

Shaking his head to clear his vision, Sean looked around for another target.

Red was whining loudly, and Sean could see the bodjak was badly hurt. Holding a back leg off the ground, he was hobbling backwards as another ghoul advanced towards him, saliva dripping from its mouth.

Throwing the cosh as hard as he could, Sean watched it turning end over end, shouting his triumph when it hit the ghoul in the ribs, throwing him to the ground.

Red needed no second invitation and was quickly buried up to his neck in the creature's stomach.

The dying ghoul's screams were horrendous but Sean had no time, or inclination, for sympathy.

Grabbing the club, he turned, searching for the remaining ghoul.

***

Sean never saw it coming.

The last ghoul had somehow managed to scoop Red from the ground and fling him across the space separating them.

The bodjak hit Sean square in the face, snapping his head back.

Sean fell flat on his back, his head bouncing off the ground.

For a few seconds everything went dull, and a loud ringing noise filled his ears.

Shaking his head, Sean tried to sit up but a heavy weight was pressing him down. Talons gripped his biceps, breaking through the skin as the ghoul looked down at him, eyes ablaze with victory.

Red whined quietly a short distance from Sean's side, trying to move closer. The bodjak looked as though it had a broken back. It whined again, wriggling its body a few millimetres nearer.

The ghoul slammed its thick tail down across Red's body twice before the bodjak stopped moving altogether.

Sean's anger rose, and from nowhere, he found enough strength to break one arm free.

Swinging the club, Sean connected with the side of the ghoul's head.

The ghoul shook its head and grinned down at him, opening its mouth wide, ready to tear out Sean's throat. The blow had been pitiful and Sean may as well have slapped it with his open palm.

Sean could smell the foulness of the ghoul's breath; see the glistening, sharp teeth as the creature lowered its head.

Dirty talons slid round Sean's neck, squeezing harder and harder.

The club was heavy in his hand and Sean let it drop by his side.

Red's eyes fluttered open and he gave a loud howl.

Sean twisted his head in the ghoul's grip, tearing the skin on his neck, feeling his blood gushing across his chest.

He didn't care, all he wanted was to share his last few seconds with his new friend.

Sean's eyes widened in wonder. The cosh was glowing brightly, the colours inside whirling, gathering speed.

And there, in the very centre, was Evan's face staring out at him.

Sean felt a deep coldness creeping over his body and knew the end was near.

"Come home, Sean," Evan said, holding out a hand.

Sean smiled. "And just how the hell do you expect me to do that, you cretin?"

Blood frothed his lips as he tried speaking again, but all he managed was a gurgled croak.

A bright light haloed the ghoul's head.

Sean's consciousness was fading fast, but he could make out a soft rustling that quickly grew in volume.

It took a tremendous effort to keep his eyes open, because all Sean wanted to do now was sleep, slip into the blackness that beckoned him.

The noise grew in intensity, causing the ghoul to look back over its shoulder, loosening its grip on Sean's neck.

A branch struck the ghoul's back and it leaped to its feet.

Sean felt the mayhem building round them: the rising winds pitching the leaves from the ground, swirling them faster and faster, high into the air; the branches, broken from the trees; even the stones – all tossed high into the sky by the maelstrom above them.

The ghoul howled as it was snatched from its feet and sucked into the chaos, battered by the flying debris.

As Sean's life slowly slipped away, all around him the elements raged.

His last coherent thoughts were of a far off beach, a beautiful selkie, and a life that might have been.

### Chapter 37

"Please Donna. Come down from there."

Eenia had gone to the ward, expecting to find Donna in her usual place by Evan's bed. It had taken her some time to locate the human on the roof of the hospital.

"Stay away from me, Eenia. There's nothing you can do to make me change my mind now."

Eenia fluttered back and forth in front of Donna but kept well away. She looked down. This part of the carpark was almost deserted, and lonely looking. Not a good place to choose to die.

"Donna, why are you doing this? I don't understand. Sean will be back any time now, and Evan has woken up. I promise you, he has, Donna. Please don't do this."

Eenia could see the hesitation in Donna's stance. Her deep-seated need to believe.

But then Donna shook her head. "I'm not stupid. Of course you'd say that."

"No Donna, I swear. It's true. He's asking for you."

Eenia could see the stream of tears running down Donna's cheeks and her heart went out to her.

"I killed him Eenia. So we can be together. That's how I know you're lying to me." Donna moved her left foot so it was partially over the parapet. "Just leave me alone."

"But Donna, Evan––"

"Don't you understand?" Donna shouted. "I poisoned him. When he was laying defencelessly in bed. Even if he has recovered, I would go to jail, and he would hate me for the rest of his life. It's useless now. The only way forward for me is down there."

Eenia moved nearer, then quickly backed away when Donna moved her other foot so that too was over the edge of the parapet.

A heavy thump, followed by loud cursing, sounded from the far side of the roof.

"Listen. Do you hear that, Donna? I think that must be Sean. Just please don't do anything until I get back, okay? Promise me. I'll go and check. Just give me a few minutes. Surely you can give me that long before you do this?"

"Just a few minutes then," Donna replied, moving back from the edge until her feet were on firmer ground.

***

"Bloody hell!" Sean shouted when his head bounced off something hard and unyielding. "I can't take much more of this."

Senses still spinning, Sean groaned and raised his head. Two seconds later the breath was knocked from his body by something heavy landing with great force on his stomach.

"Jesus H Christ! What the hell was that?"

Pushing the offending item to the floor, Sean rolled over onto his side.

A big wet tongue slapped his face.

"Red? Red is that really you? Oh my God, I thought you were dead. But how the hell did you get here? Oh never mind, just come here boy."

Sitting up, Sean pulled Red back onto his lap and gave him a big extended hug.

Finally the bodjak squirmed its way out of Sean's grip, jumped down and began bouncing around, yipping and yapping as though relieved to still be alive.

Sean grabbed a bracket on the nearby air-conditioning unit and slowly pulled himself to his feet. He groaned softly at all the aches and pains throughout his body.

God, I feel like an old man.

Moving nearer to a dim overhead light, Sean examined his arms. Gasping his disbelief, he did so again.

No, that can't be right.

Using his fingertips, Sean examined his forehead – nothing. No cuts. No skin hanging down. True, there were a couple of splotches of still sticky blood, but no wounds.

Frowning, he looked over at Red.

"Here boy."

The bodjak lolloped over, snuffling round Sean's feet as though it didn't have a care in the world. Bending over, Sean examined Red's rear leg. It seemed perfectly okay, if a little tender when he poked it.

Standing, Sean rubbed his hands through his hair, wondering how their wounds had healed so miraculously. Slipping his hand inside his shirt, he smiled when he felt the package nestling there.

I wonder?

"Hey, you could at least have got a bath before you came back. You stink."

Sean jumped at the unexpected greeting. Turning, he saw Eenia hovering nearby.

Flying to a nearby bracket she fluttered down and stood there smiling at him.

"What, no kiss for the returning hero then?" Sean complained.

"Urgh!" Eenia replied, shaking her head as though there was a nasty taste in her mouth. "Come on, we've got to hurry. Donna needs your help. She's about to do something really stupid."

Hearing the tension in Eenia's voice, Sean hurried after her, Red at his heels. Rounding the lift-room building, Sean skidded to a stop, heart in mouth, when he saw Donna standing on the parapet.

She had her back to him, arms spread wide, as though embracing the emptiness in front of her.

"Donna," he called softly. "What are you doing?"

"Sean?"

He walked nearer. "Yes Donna, it's me. I'm back, and I've got the club."

"No, stay back Sean. Don't come any nearer."

Donna raised her arms higher, as if about to dive into a pool.

Sean stopped, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. "But Evan is waiting for you, Donna." He looked over at Eenia, and she gave a vigorous nod.

"You're lying. You have to be."

"I would never lie about something like this Donna. You know I wouldn't."

"Really?"

"Really."

After a short pause, Donna lowered her arms and took a deep breath. She turned away from the edge, but as she did so her foot slipped on an oily patch left by a maintenance engineer when he had been overhauling the window cleaning cradle.

Twisting, Donna fell, hitting the parapet with a thud, rolling towards the edge.

"No!" Sean ran forward as Donna began to slide over the side.

Throwing himself forward, Sean managed to catch hold of her wrist at the last moment.

Donna cried out when her body slammed against the side of the building.

Dragged forward, Sean held on tight, face contorted with the effort. Twisting, he managed to get a double-handed grip on her arm, but the momentum almost pulled him over the parapet as well.

Pulled forward, Sean's chest hit the edge of the coping and the sudden pain loosened his grip. Gasping air between clenched teeth, he only just managed to hang on.

Donna was now dangling by a single arm, her eyes wide with terror as she looked down at the ground far below her. She may have wanted to die a few minutes before, but now she wanted to live – to be with her Evan.

"Give me your other hand, Donna," Sean gasped through his pain.

Donna reached up and he grabbed her wrist, almost dropping her as he transferred his grip.

She screamed, her eyes wide with terror.

"It's okay Donna. I've got you. Now get your knee up on the edge of the parapet. Quick."

Donna twisted, raising her leg.

"No. No. Stop!"

The shift in weight had pulled Sean further across the coping stone.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his knees against the low wall and raised his chest off the parapet, arching his back, trying to pull Donna higher.

It was no use, he didn't have the strength.

Collapsing onto the coping again, he almost cried.

Sean knew he couldn't hold on to Donna's wrists for much longer, he could already feel them slipping through his sweaty hands.

"Sorry Donna. I'm so sorry. I . . . can't––," Sean whispered, his face pressed into the parapet.

Then he felt something tug at his coat and heard Red's whine.

"That's it boy. Pull! Pull!"

Together, Sean and Red managed to raise Donna high enough for her to hook a knee over the side, taking some of the weight off Sean. Reaching over he grabbed her trouser belt and hauled her up.

They all fell off the parapet onto the roof in an untidy bundle, laughing, crying, and yapping all at the same time.

Untangling herself, Donna jumped to her feet.

"I'm going down to Evan," she called, heading for the lift at a run.

Sean rolled over onto his back, bringing his knees up so Eenia could perch there.

She fluttered over and settled down.

"You took your time doing that," she said with a smile. "And do you mind telling me what that thing is."

"This?" Sean chuckled, scratching the bodjak's belly as it lay wriggling its legs in the air. "This is Red. Say hello, Red."

Red turned its head, looked up at Eenia and gave a snort.

"And you say hello to Red, Eenia. By the way, he loves having his belly tickled. Don't you boy?"

"Hah! If you think I'm going anywhere near either of your bellies, you've got another think coming."

***

Sean sat on the parapet, legs dangling over the edge, watching the sunrise. He was tired but happy. He would go down and see Evan in a little while, but not just yet. Donna needed some time with him first.

"So who's bright idea was it to kill Evan, then?" he asked.

Eenia sighed from her seat on his shoulder, wriggling a little uncomfortably.

"It was Alareth's emergency fallback plan. That's why I wasn't able to come into the Cusp and help you. Once I'd planted the idea in Donna's mind while she slept, I had to hang around and make sure she followed through.

"I think Alareth knew she wasn't coming back, Sean. We talked a lot before you two left. There was this deep sadness about her, as though something was hanging over her head. I tried to find out what it was, but she kept changing the subject, and in the end I gave up." Eenia paused, watching a crow spiralling down to the ground in search of food.

"She told me that if you weren't back if three days, something must have gone wrong; that you would need help getting back and the only way to do that was with Evan's help. You needed something that mattered deeply to you. Something to pull you out of the Cusp when the time was right." Eenia paused again.

Sean stayed quiet, watching the crow peck at something on the ground.

"Looks like Alareth was right," she said. "Only trouble was, neither of us counted on Donna trying to kill herself like that."

"Just goes to show that you don't know humans as well as you think you do. I hope that's a lesson well learnt."

"Guess you're right."

They both looked down at the carpark, thinking their own thoughts.

Finally, Eenia shifted and sniggered.

"What?" Sean asked, irritated at the interruption.

"That thing you bought back with you. It isn't a boy."

Leaning back, Sean scooped Red up, holding the bodjak at arms length.

"Sure he is. Look at how muscular and bulky he is. Aren't you my little cutie?"

Red wriggled in Sean's grip, huffing and puffing at being held over the edge in such an offhand manner.

"No, he's not, Sean. Boys have a . . . you know." Waggling her little finger, Eenia took a closer look. "And that thing definitely hasn't got one of those."

Red look hurt and huffed again.

"Well he's a boy as far as I'm concerned."

Red sneezed, nearly knocking Eenia off Sean's shoulder with a gob of snot.

"Oh, that's really charming!" she protested, using Sean's collar to wipe herself down.

"Come on," Sean said, trying to hide a big grin. "Time I paid a visit to an old friend."

***

Mrs Rowbottom stabbed at the lift button again.

As a middle-administrator, with responsibilities that weighed heavily on her shoulders, she considered herself to be a top cog in the running of the hospital. Without her considerable abilities, she knew it would just all fall apart.

That was why Mrs Rowbottom was so impatient to get to the meeting. Also, she couldn't afford to be late because Mr Sneal had made it quite plain what the result would be if that ever happened again. Shifting the pile of files from under her arm, she clutched them tightly against her breast and thumped the button again.

Come on! Come on!

Finally, a soft ding announced the arrival of the lift and Mrs Rowbottom stepped through the opening door. She frowned as she did so, moving as far away as possible from the man exiting. Breathing a sigh of relief when the doors closed, she relaxed a little and press the up button.

Terrible man. Unshaven, ripped clothes, covered from head to foot in smelly mud. And to top it all laughing and talking to himself at the top of his voice. Don't know why they let such riff-raff into the hospital. She'd be certain to make a complaint to security and get him thrown out as soon as she arrived at her floor.

Growing impatient at the lift's slow progress, Mrs Rowbottom repeatedly tapped the button.

Why didn't it go any faster?

Finally loosing her temper, she thumped the button with her fist. The lift sped up slightly, and then unexpectedly shuddered to a stop.

What? No this can't be happening!

She tried another button, then another and another. Finally, she angrily smashed all the buttons with the palm of her hand.

The lift dropped a metre, and then bounced to a halt again.

Squealing in surprise at the sudden fall, Mrs Rowbottom dropped her files. They hit the floor with a resounding slap, spewing paper everywhere.

Mrs Rowbottom now had the terrifying sudden picture in her head of what would happen if the lift just fell to the bottom of the shaft.

Opening the small emergency cabinet with shaking hands, she pulled out the phone and held it to her ear.

"Hello? Hello? Is there anyone there? Please?"

"Oh good day, madam. How are you? Are you having a pleasant ride?" a cheerful voice answered.

"No, I'm not. The lift is stuck. Just get me out of here and stop with all the questions."

"Very good madam. I just need the password."

"What?" Mrs Rowbottom was quickly loosing her temper, her voice rising in proportion to her exasperation. "What did you just say?"

"Password?" there was a short pause. Then, "I have to remind you that this conversation may be recorded for training purposes. Beep, beep."

Behind the button panel, up to its neck in twisted cables, printed circuit boards, and all the other dodats required to run the lift, sat a gremlin. It had a broad smile on its face and was wondering why it hadn't thought of doing this long before. It was so much fun.

"May I sing you a song while you wait?" the gremlin asked, chuckling at the profanities now rebounding round the small, enclose space.

### Epilogue

It had been almost a year since Sean had returned from the Cusp and a lot had happened.

Donna and Evan had married and were now trying for a child. As a result the mansion had been turned upside down while the builders constructed a new nursery in what was once the garden room.

Sean mostly kept out of the way, living in the wing they had given him off the main house. For the most part he had been happy spending his time redecorating and furnishing it, between times taking Red for a walk round the extensive grounds.

He knew the gardeners Donna employed thought him a bit of a whacko, and Sean couldn't really blame them. Who wouldn't think so, watching a man play with an imaginary dog?

Sean spent most nights sitting in front of a roaring log fire, Red at his feet, staring at the spear he had hung above the fireplace, wondering what life might have been like, if––.

Now and then Sean opened the new safe he'd had installed behind the wooden panels and took out the Golden Shawl. A few times he had almost tried it on, but hadn't succumbed to the temptation, returning it to its place beside another very special bundle, and the remaining diamonds he hadn't cashed in yet.

But lately, Sean had started feeling down. Something was nagging at him, something that felt unfinished.

One day, after checking the calendar, he suddenly realised what it was.

Telling Donna and Evan that he was in need of a short holiday, Sean packed a rucksack with a few things and booked a flight.

***

The waves lapped gently, much like the first time Sean had stood on the beach where he had first met Alareth, exactly one year ago, almost to the minute.

Hands in pockets, Sean stared out across the water.

The sun was high and bright, picking out the wavelets with twinkling points of light, and although it was a pretty scene, it made him a little sad.

Feeling a tug at his trouser leg, he looked down and smiled. Red looked back up at him.

The bodjak did one of his ruff, ruff, slobbery kinds of barks and began bouncing about, obviously in the mood to play. Kneeling down by the waters edge, Sean picked him up. Red eagerly rolled into a ball, giving a ruffled bark as he buried his head in his stomach.

Tossing him hard, Sean watched the bodjak bounce along the beach. When Red came to a rest, he immediately unrolled and came bounding back towards Sean again for another throw.

Sean played with Red for perhaps a quarter of an hour, then when the bodjak got tired of the game and went off in search of more exciting things to do, sat on the sand and studied the water again, thinking about how much he missed Alareth.

Slumped down, Sean stared at nothing in particular, not realising that tears were rolling down his cheeks. One hit the water with a soft splash, disappearing without notice.

Sean sat that way for a long time; just looking, hoping, longing, for something that had been torn from him forever.

"I tasted your tear," a soft voice said.

Sean jumped, looking back over his shoulder, squinting against the sun.

Oh my God. Could it be?

Heart thumping, Sean staggered to his feet, hardly believing his eyes. Standing before him was his Alareth, as naked and as beautiful as when he had first seen her a year ago.

But then Sean began seeing subtle differences: the missing tattoo; the different hair style; the way this selkie held herself.

"For a moment there I thought you were Alareth," he said, sadness heavy in his voice.

"Alareth was my twin sister. I've come for her sealskin. It needs returning to the sea."

Sean nodded, picking up the special bag he had brought with him.

"Yes, she asked me to bring it here if something happened to her. On our anniversary."

Choking back his tears, Sean opened the bag and looked inside. The skin was dry and cracked, but still held her unique scent. Carefully pulling it out, he gently kissed it, and then handed it to the selkie.

"She gave her life for me," he mumbled.

Taking the skin, Alareth's sister slid it about her neck.

"You must be someone very special for my sister to give up her existence for you," she said sadly.

"I really don't feel like I am," Sean responded.

"Instead of always taking, why don't you give a little, human? Help those less fortunate than yourself. You have a gift Alareth would have wanted you to use it."

Sean turned to answer but the selkie had disappeared.

He stood a while longer, thinking about what Alareth's sister had said.

Shortly, Red bounded up to him, snuffling round his feet. Picking him up, Sean turned and headed back to the hire car, his thoughts heavy on his mind.

***

The flight back home had so far been relaxing.

He was enjoying a coffee and Red was off somewhere exploring the plane, leaving Sean room to spread out. The flight was only half-full and he had been lucky enough to bag a row with three empty seats.

Realising that they would be coming in to land before too long, Sean headed for the toilet.

Finished his ablutions, he washed his hands and left the cubicle. Passing the section where the food and drinks were kept, something familiar looking caught Sean's attention. Stopping he frowned, pulling aside a small canvas curtain.

Sitting on the floor of the cubicle was a gremlin, busily up to his armpits in something down the side of the cabinets.

Sean knew what gremlins liked more than anything else in life, and that was messing about with mechanical things, preferably breaking them if they could.

Leaning over, Sean grabbed the gremlin by the ear and yanked it out. It kicked and squealed, but he kept dragging it along the aisle, finally throwing it into the seat beside the window, tying it down with the seatbelt.

Looking back up the aisle, Sean whistled, relieved when Red came bounding towards him. Picking Red up, Sean sat him in the seat next to the gremlin.

"Guard," he said, pointing.

Red growled low in his throat and the gremlin sat back, sulkily turning to look out of the window.

Sean relaxed back with a smile, doing up his own seatbelt.

"Mummy, why is that man talking to himself. He's acting all funny!"

"Hush darling. He's probably a bit frightened of flying and is just talking to himself so he feels better."

Chuckling quietly, Sean closed his eyes, squirming back into his seat, happy that, just for now, everything was alright with the world.

***

The ding from the overhead speakers woke Sean, and he looked up. The seatbelt sign had come on. The plane was coming in to land.

Sean turned his head and sat bolt upright, his mind whirling.

The gremlin had gone!

Red was lying on his back, feet in the air, sound asleep.

Sean shook him. "Where's the bloody gremlin, Red?"

Red squirmed around and sat up, a look of bemusement on his face.

"Never mind, sit back down. We're coming in to land. It's too late to do anything now."

"Mummy, he's talking to himself again."

"Shh darling."

Sean held onto the arms of his seat, grinding his teeth, hoping against hope that the gremlin hadn't done anything that would cause a crash.

A few minutes later he felt the familiar bump as the aircraft hit the runway, and let out a long sigh, the tension flowing from him.

When the plane finally rolled to a stop, Sean made a resolution never to fly again.

Waiting for the other passengers to disembark first, he got his rucksack from the overhead locker and walked down the aisle towards the flight attendants waiting at the door. Red pushed passed him, bounding up to an attendant with his usual energy.

After snuffling round her for a moment, he got bored and ran back, straight between Sean's legs, nearly knocking him over.

"You alright sir?"

Smiling at the attendant, Sean nodded. "Yes thanks, I'm fine. Just tripped. Seem to be getting two left feet these days."

Stooping, he scooped Red up and the bodjak instantly balled himself up in the crook of his arm.

"Thank you for flying with us, sir."

"It was a pleasure," Sean replied, stepping out onto the metal staircase.

Dropping Red, Sean followed the bouncing bodjak down the steps and across the tarmac.

Unrolling, Red trotted after him into the airport building.

Walking through the baggage department, Sean smiled. "Well Red, looks like that gremlin behaved itself after all."

Red snuffled, and then barked, staring at the nearest carousel.

A sudden loud bang sounded, followed by a large cloud of smoke puffing out of the central carousel. It speeded up for a moment, and then stopped dead, throwing cases and packages into the air.

Passengers, dodging the falling debris, and obviously thinking there was some sort of a terrorist attack underway, scattered in all directions, screaming their terror.

Sean stopped, watching the gremlin climb out of the smoking machinery, a broad smile on its face.

Seeing Sean, it gave a mid-finger flick, which looked rather strange as it only had two digits.

Sean quickly returned the gesture.

"Hey you," a voice called. "What the hell do you think you're doing insulting my wife that way?"

Quickly dropping his arm, Sean turned and headed for the nearest exit at a half-run, Red bounding along beside him.

It was a glorious day outside the airport. The sun was high, and a cool breeze blew in from the west. Walking towards the long-term carpark, Sean felt good.

He had been thinking back to his conversation on the beach with Alareth's sister, and knew exactly what he wanted to do with the rest of his life now.

About the Author

Peter Barns lives in the Highlands of Scotland.

Retired, he now spends his time writing

and refurbishing houses.

Connect with him online

Website: boddaert.co.uk

Face book: facebook.com/BoddaertBooks

Smashwords: smashwords.com/profile/view/boddaert

Also available by the same author

Novels:

The Gastropoda Imperative

Payback

7 Days In May

Fire Rock

Hobart at Home

Poetry:

Tears

Burnt Toast

Hole

Love Is

Cautionary Tales

Twittclass

Flash Fiction:

Tales From The Cottage

