Marc Chadbourn - The Devil in green

'See?' Miller said.

'Coincidence, idiot.' Mallory cautiously climbed the steps. At the top, the doorway opened on to a large domestic room. A log fire roaring in an enormous stone fireplace provided the only source of light. A wooden chair as big as a throne sat before it, while the walls were covered with shelves of books and heavy tapestries. It was so incongruous after the bleak places they had passed through that it brought them up sharp.

'Who lives here?' Miller asked nervously.

Mallory advanced into the chamber cautiously, transferring the torch to his left hand so that he could draw his sword.

'I don't like this,' Miller said. 'We should go back.'

'I thought you prayed for a way out. You can't throw back the gift just because it doesn't meet your expectations.' Mallory knew it was a cheap shot and he resolved not to bait Miller further.

They made their way to the centre of the room, but couldn't see any other way out. 'There,' Miller said. 'We have to go back.'

Mallory had to agree, but there was a soothing atmosphere to the room after the cold and shadows of the tunnels. As they turned to leave, the heavy tramp of footsteps approached. Miller blanched, looked to Mallory. They both glanced towards the doorway, but the sound didn't appear to be coming from that direction.

Disoriented, Mallory looked around in time to see one of the tapestries on the opposite wall being thrust back. A man at least eight feet tall was emerging from another tunnel. At first, Mallory couldn't make out his features — it was as though his eyes were running — but the shape of the frame was undoubtedly that of the killer that had pursued himself and Hipgrave in the tunnels.

Brandishing his sword, Mallory backed away until he realised that Miller was rooted to the spot. 'Come on,' he snapped, but Miller only had eyes for the giant now striding towards them.

As he closed on them, the features became clearer: long hair the colour of coal, a thick beard and black eyes that glowered beneath overhanging brows. He wore a shift made out of something like sackcloth, held tight at the waist by a broad leather belt. A thong bound around his left forearm was fitted with several mysterious hooks, which Mallory guessed had caused the scraping sound he had heard on his previous visit to the tunnels.

'One more step and I'll chop you into hunks,' Mallory said. He didn't know how realistic that threat was. Although the giant wasn't armed, he looked strong enough to have torn apart Cornelius and Julian.

Surprisingly, the giant stopped, though he didn't appear in the least bit frightened by Mallory's threat. 'Ho, Brother of Dragons.' His voice echoed like a slamming door.

'Stay back,' Mallory warned, unnerved that the killer had called him by the same name he had been given in the Court of Peaceful Days.

'Who are you?' Mallory was startled by Miller's small voice at his back.

'I am the Caretaker,' the giant boomed. 'I walk the boundaries of this place of reverence. I watch over the fabric, close some doors, open others. I turn on the lamps of hope in the dark of the night, and extinguish them when dawn's light touches the sky. I keep this place safe from those who would assault it. I keep it safe for all who come here, by whatever route, from whatever place, whether hope or despair rules their hearts. I am their servant.'

'I'm warning you,' Mallory said. He was considering a guerrilla attack to disable the giant with a couple of strikes, before beating a fast retreat.

'Sheathe your sword, Brother of Dragons. You have nothing to fear from me.'

'I don't think he's the killer, Mallory,' Miller whispered.

Mallory wavered. 'I saw you before. You tried to attack me and my friend.'

'I tried to warn you, Brother of Dragons. In these times, this place can be dangerous to your kind.'

There was a cold, almost alien note to the giant's voice that was distinctly unnerving, yet behind it Mallory sensed honesty. He cautiously sheathed his sword.

'Where did you come from?' Miller asked, calmer than at any time since they had ventured into the tunnels. The peaceful atmosphere of the room had increased several notches since the Caretaker had entered.

The Caretaker appeared not to understand the question. 'This is my place,' he said with a shrug. He motioned towards the fire. 'Sit. Shake the cold from your limbs.' He brought over two stools, then lowered himself into the wooden chair.

Still reeling after all the running and fighting, Mallory and Miller tentatively took their seats, but were thankful for the fire. As they warmed their hands, they kept a cautious eye on the giant. The Caretaker's unwavering gaze made Mallory uncomfortable, yet something about the easy mood the giant radiated made Mallory feel he couldn't have fought even if he had wanted to. Mallory's tension seeped away until he felt he could have slept if he closed his eyes.

'I had not expected to see a Brother of Dragons in this place,' the Caretaker said eventually.

'Somebody else called me that,' Mallory said. 'It must be the sword.' He pulled it a little way out of the sheath so the giant could see the dragons entwining on the hilt. 'It's borrowed.'

The Caretaker smiled as if this was the most ridiculous thing he had heard. 'The sword would not have come to you if you were not a Brother of Dragons,' he said warmly. 'I see it in your heart. The sword only answers that.'

Miller looked at Mallory with widening eyes. 'He's talking as if you're special.'

'I'm not special.' Mallory looked away from him into the fire. Though the logs blazed, they didn't appear to be consumed.

The Caretaker shrugged as if it were of no import and settled back into the chair, staring blankly at the shadows above the mantelpiece. In the soporific atmosphere, they sat in silence while Mallory and Miller tried to put the experience into some kind of context.

It was Miller who found the courage to question the giant first. 'What is this place?' he asked.

The Caretaker appeared to respond to the deference in his voice. 'You are a Fragile Creature,' he began. 'Your world is one of constraints, where things are fixed, immutable. This place is not of your world.'

'So we're someplace else? We've been transported? Like in Star Trek?'

'That's right, Miller. Now ask him if he thought Voyager let down the franchise,' Mallory said tardy. He was still ruminating over what the Caretaker had said about him being a Brother of Dragons: could someone with his past really be some kind of mystical champion without him realising it? When he considered it like that, it was more than laughable, but both Rhiannon and the Caretaker appeared convinced. Just thinking of it made him feel queasy, as if he had no control over his life.

The Caretaker placed his fingertips together and stared into the space amongst them. 'This place lies between your world and the Far Lands. It lies amid all possible worlds. It lies within all worlds. It encompasses all worlds.'

'Well, that explains everything,' Mallory sighed.

'Oh, Mallory,' Miller complained. He turned back to the Caretaker. 'But it came out of nowhere,' he said. 'One day it was just here, attached to the cathedral we knew.'

'Aye. It would seem that way.'

Gradually, the Caretaker's words began to strike a chord with Mallory. The giant appeared to be suggesting that there was a benign aspect to the new buildings, as if the manifestation wasn't connected to the oppressive presence beyond the walls. 'Why did it appear?' he asked pointedly.

The Caretaker eyed him. 'You have decided to rejoin the conversation, Brother of Dragons?' Mallory looked away. 'It was, in a way, summoned, or dragged, or manifested. Your home… your Church… has always been a place of power. The Blue Fire has flowed through it since the beginning, fuelled by the wishes of worshippers, and fuelling them in return. Yet now it is like a wellspring of the lifeblood of Existence. Its light shines across all time and all place, too powerful by far, warping the very fabric, altering the Fixed Lands and the Far Lands, calling the dead back from the Grim Lands. Too powerful for you Fragile Creatures. It will make you sick.'