The Burning Man

11

‘Where are we?’

After what felt like a walk through an icy, refreshing waterfall, Mallory stood in a long, stone corridor lit by torches with doors at irregular intervals. Beside him was a window that looked out onto a dark space lit occasionally by distant flares, like stars coming to life and dying in an instant.

‘The Watchtower between the worlds,’ Rhiannon said quietly. ‘Few come here.’

Turning away from the window, Decebalus spat. ‘I can see why. I do not like it.’

Responding to the subtle atmosphere of unease that permeated the Watchtower, Jerzy scampered close on Mallory’s heels.

The nearest door was locked, but as Mallory let go of the handle there was a sound of scuffling within, as if someone had leaped to their feet in anticipation.

‘Come on then, you tosspots. Where’s my grub?’ The earthy Birmingham accent was incongruous in the Otherworldly surroundings.

Decebalus’s severe expression broke into a puzzled but hopeful beam. ‘Ronnie?’

A moment of silence, then, dismally, ‘Don’t tell me they got you, too.’

Between Decebalus’s straining sinews and Mallory’s sword, the lock was soon shattered. In the dark chamber stood a young man in the field uniform of a British soldier from the Great War. He was stubbled and pale from his imprisonment, but grinning broadly. Decebalus and the soldier threw their arms around each other.

‘All right, you big old bastard! It had to be you, didn’t it?’ Ronnie said.

Decebalus thrust Ronnie towards Mallory. ‘One of us.’

Ronnie’s eyes gleamed. ‘Ronald Kelly, Second Army, Thirtieth Division. And a Brother of Dragons.’

‘You’re one of those Church pulled out of time to save you from Veitch?’ Mallory realised.

‘Yes, sir. That bastard — excuse my French, sir, but he is — he killed a lot of our kind. And we’re all just waiting for a chance to get back at him.’ His expression grew flinty. ‘But first we need to sort out that witch who threw us in here. Traitorous bitch.’

Jerzy tugged at Mallory’s sleeve. ‘We should hurry, good friend. The queen’s guard may be here soon to feed the prisoners.’

‘I’m surprised she didn’t just kill you,’ Mallory said.

‘Oh, no,’ Ronnie replied. ‘She’s scared of us. Or rather what we stand for. Better to lock us up than risk waking something she can’t control.’

‘It’s already woken,’ Mallory said.

‘That’s what I hoped, sir.’ Ronnie stepped into the corridor and got his bearings. ‘I know where they keep the keys. Shall we free the others?’