The Devil in Green (50 page)

'We're all on the same side,' Mallory said as calmly as he could muster,
'against that stuff out there.' He waved his hands towards the dark city.

'No.' Gardener was not ready to listen to reason. Mallory's heart leaped
as Gardener began to back towards the boundary. One step beyond the
invisible line and he would be easy prey. 'The Bible says
—
'

'Suffer not a witch to live,
I know. Fuck it, Gardener, I'm not going to get
into some theological argument with you while we've got the Devil at our
backs.' Gardener halted; Mallory took a breath, relieved that his blatant
manipulation had worked. 'Remember why we're here.' He gently lowered
Hipgrave down to lie on the grass.

Gardener surveyed his wounded captain, clearly torn. Finally he said,
'I'm not going to move from here. And if any of them come near me—'

'Fine, fine,' Mallory interrupted hastily before any of the travellers
heard Gardener announce that he was going to slice them into bloody
chunks. 'You stay here
. . .
guard Hipgrave. I'll
. . .
I'll .
.
.' He shook
his head wearily. '. . . tell the enemy to keep their distance.'

He marched up to Scab who quavered at the insistence of his approach.
Mallory shook his head curdy and said from the corner of his mouth, 'Get
out of here before he starts spouting scripture.'

There
was a split second before the youth registered Mallory's

complicity, and then he lightened and hurried away amongst the tents.

*

Mallory and Gardener sat in uncomfortable silence for several hours.
Their only hope of getting back to the cathedral was to wait until daybreak,
but it was a long time in coming. For some reason no one could explain,
Sophie was unavailable, but Mallory managed to get food and some basic
medication for Hipgrave.

Eventually, he couldn't contain his desire to see Sophie any longer and
went off in search of her. Rick, the dreadlocked youth Mallory had met on
his first visit to the camp, was loitering outside the leader's tent under the
fluttering two-dragon flag. He sucked anxiously on a joint as he wandered
back and forth, jumping in shock when he saw Mallory.

'What do you want?' he said, with drug-fired paranoia.

'Peace on earth, good will to men. Where's Sophie?'

Rick jerked his head towards the tent door. 'She hasn't got time for you.
Not tonight.'

'What's up? Big spell? Lots of nude dancing? I'm up for it.'

Rick bristled. Before he could respond, the tent flaps were thrown open
and Sophie stepped out. She looked pale and distracted, and Mallory
thought she might have been crying. 'I thought I heard your voice.'

'What's wrong?' The sarcasm ebbed from his voice as he responded to
her mood.

She took a gulping breath, her eyes widening. He was shocked to see the
confidence and control falling from her until she resembled, briefly, a
young girl lost in a frightening place. He stepped forwards to comfort
her, but she backed off, aware of Rick's eyes on her. He dropped his
arms. It wasn't the time, or the place; and prejudice was everywhere. She
composed herself quickly, weighed the moment and turned her back on
Rick, holding open the tent flap for Mallory to enter. Rick began to
protest, but she flashed him a look so ferocious that the words died in his
throat. He took a heavy hit on his joint and stomped away.

Inside, Sophie sagged, free from the need to present a front. Though
concerned at the extent of her suffering, Mallory was secretly pleased that
she made no attempt to hide her emotions from him. He hesitated, then
reached out again. She let him place his hands on her shoulders, but didn't
fold into him as he had hoped. 'What's happened?' he asked.

She took another breath that blatantly suppressed a sob. 'Melanie's
dead.' Her voice was like the wind under the door.

'I'm sorry.' He cursed his awkwardness and inability to express honest
emotion, but he couldn't think of anything else to say to connect with
her.

She didn't seem to mind. 'She was a good person, Mallory.' She stared
into the too-bright light of several candles blazing in one corner of the
foyer. 'Goddess, she was the only thing holding us all together.' She pulled
away from him, her knuckles involuntarily going to her mouth.

He replaced a supportive hand on her shoulder, and it lost its stiffness at
his touch. 'When did it happen?'

'An hour ago. I haven't told anyone yet . . . except Rick . .
.
haven't
dared tell them.' She looked up at him with moist eyes. 'She was so strong,
Mallory. She had such a clear view of where we were going
. . .
what was
expected of us . .
.
Everyone was relying on her.'

'Don't think about that now,' he said. 'This is the time for grieving for
her, for Melanie. Everything else comes later.'

'We don't have that option. There's too much at stake. She wasn't just a
friend, she was the leader of everybody here.' She caught another breath.
'They're all here
because
of her.' There was a long pause, and then she said,
'And now they're going to ask me to take over. But I'm not up to it,
Mallory. I'm not up to it at all.'

'Then don't do it. Leave.'

She was plainly puzzled by this. 'I can't walk away. I've got responsibilities now.'

'You're telling me they can't get on without you?' He briefly entertained
the fantasy that at daybreak he and Sophie could find a horse and ride
away from the increasingly dangerous mess that was growing around
them.

'I'm sure they could get on without me, but that's not the point. When
you're part of a tribe there are structures in place to facilitate the survival
of the community.'

'And you're the wise-woman-in-waiting.'

'My abilities with the Craft are important for everyone here. Melanie
invested a lot of time and effort teaching me, and I accepted that role and
the responsibilities that went along with it. It would be immoral to turn my
back on people who are relying on me.'

She noticed the anxiety in his features and caught herself. 'Listen to me,
going on about myself. Selfish bitch. Why are you here? Is there something wrong?'

Her concern triggered pent-up doubts and fears that surfaced unbidden; for the first time in a long while he felt there was someone with whom
he could talk honestly. 'We're in deep shit in the cathedral,' he said,
suddenly weary. 'Those things have got us under
siege ...
the food's
getting low, and I can't see them finding a way out. There's something else
going on, too, in the background. I can't figure out what it is, but I don't
reckon it can be any good.' His shoulders sagged at the release. 'I think it's
going to get really bad.'

She forced a smile. 'What a pair, eh? If this was before the Fall . . .' She
caught herself; there was no point talking about could-have-beens. Yet in
her comment Mallory sensed a connection: they were
a pair,
two people
burdened by problems who would rather be a hundred miles away.
Together.