The Devil in Green (74 page)

'I'm not sure about this,' Mallory said, marvelling at the Beast's flight.

Gardener flashed him a suspicious glance. 'What do you mean?'

'It's not right to loll it. What good would that do?'

'Send a message,' Gardener said.

'Is that a good enough reason for destroying a living thing?'

'Steady on, Mallory. You're starting to sound like me.' Miller grinned at
him, then turned to the others. 'He's right, I think. Look at it - it's an
amazing creature. It would be like shooting a horse or something.'

'Don't start going down that road,' Gardener growled. 'Bloody defeatists. Daniels, what do you think?'

Daniels was checking his gun over. 'I'm just following orders.'

'That's why we have leaders,' Gardener continued. 'To sort out what's
right and wrong so we can be free to get down to business.'

'I can't begin to tell you how
so wrong
that line of thinking is,' Mallory
said sharply. He was interrupted by Hipgrave ordering them to prepare
for another attack. Gardener mumbled something under his breath that
sounded very much like an insult.

The Fabulous Beast performed an immaculate loop over the city and
prepared for another attack. Mallory glanced over at the Blues. The big
gun still hadn't been used, though the crew aiming it was poised. The
Beast had so far proved too fast and agile, but Blaine's tactics were clear:
he would wait to give the order until the Beast was slowed by its wounds.

The creature skimmed the rooftops, eyes blazing, smoke streaming
from its mouth and nose. The sight was so terrifying, Mallory saw the
faces around him go rigid. Yet he didn't feel that what he saw there was
driven by hatred of humanity, or hunger, or some nebulous Christian
concept of
Evil.
It was something primal, but also oddly innocent.

The guns on every side were levelled at it. They had seemed pathetic
before, but now he was not so sure: a thousand tiny blows were as good as
one big one.

Go away,
Mallory prayed silently.
Leave, before you're hurt.
He surprised
himself with the notion.

He raised his gun with the others, but when the order came he didn't
pull the trigger. What was the reason for his odd empathy with the
creature? The sound of gunfire made his ears ache. The creature snapped
out of its flight path. Every hit made his insides knot.

When it looped around to strike again, its movements were noticeably
slower. The wings were beating more heavily and there was a perceivable
wobble in its lithe undulations.

'This is it,' Gardener said.

Why doesn't it use its fire?
Mallory thought. Even if the site was protected,
it couldn't possibly know that.

The Beast came in low over the rooftops once again. This time,
Hipgrave looked to Blaine before telling them to hold their fire. The
Blues manning the big gun moved quickly, tracking the Beast's trajectory.

Mallory's heart took a dip. His gun slipped from his fingers, dropping to
the roof with a clatter.

The retort of the big gun boomed across the cathedral compound. The
Fabulous Beast was frozen in Mallory's mind just beyond the cathedral
walls, its red eyes glowing with a fierce, alien intelligence; not even the
explosion of the gun going off could force him to tear his gaze from it.
Everyone around was caught in states of jubilation and shock.

And then it all erupted in a chaotic jumble of images. The Fabulous
Beast was hit square on. There was an explosion; blue light flashed
everywhere. Through his ringing ears, Mallory thought he could hear a
sound like the wind in the mountains, and then the Beast was thrown back
and up. It came down quickly, its wings unmoving, its eyes no longer
burning.

It hit the shopping arcade hard, flattening buildings, raising a tremendous cloud of billowing dust. It skidded for a way, bringing down more
shops, before coming to rest. The night was filled with the sound of
tumbling masonry.

'They did it,' Daniels said in blank disbelief. 'They killed it.'

A loud cheer rose up from the knights. The Fabulous Beast was
obscured by the buildings all around, but there was no doubt that Daniels
was right. Mallory turned away, desperately troubled and shocked, not
knowing why he felt that way.

Across the roof, the blue beacon winked out as the elite knights ended
whatever they had set in motion and then quickly made their way back into
the cathedral.

'Perhaps death is life and in the other world life is thought of as death.'

- Euripides

During the 'great silence' that followed compline, when the brethren
retired to their cells, there was only the raucous talk of the knights and
guards echoing through the vast, empty spaces. But as the brothers
emerged at midnight for the night office, it was obvious word had
circulated quickly: spirits were high and chatter was animated. The
might of God had once more been evidenced; a blow had been struck
against the Devil.

Mallory was uncharacteristically dismal. He felt out of sorts, unable to
divine his own feelings, detached from his fellow knights. Only Miller
appeared to hold some doubts, but Mallory certainly couldn't talk to him.
All he knew was that something felt intuitively
wrong.

It was an instinct that appeared to be reflected in the weather. The
moment the Fabulous Beast had crashed to the ground, dead, the
temperature had dropped a degree or two and a powerful wind blew up
from the east, battering the cathedral and howling amongst the eaves as if
in mourning. Flurries of snow began to fall shortiy after. More, the air
itself seemed to taste different, bitter; Mallory hoped it was just the ashes
from the burning buildings.

The knights were all cheered as they entered the cathedral. Many could
barely hide their pride, though the Blues remained as emotionless as ever.
They stood at the rear of die nave, shoulders thrown back, staring into the
shadows above the quire, while Stefan climbed into the pulpit.

'Tonight we have achieved a great victory,' he intoned in a powerful
voice that filled the cathedral to its roof. 'We have defeated the great

Serpent, the Adversary in the form that tempted Adam and Eve in the
Garden, the source of original sin. Defeated!' His passion brought a ripple
of admiration from the congregation.

Mallory had decided that he disliked Stefan intensely, but he was forced
to admire the new bishop's ability to manipulate through his oration. He
had a commanding sense of moment, knowing exactly the right words and
tone to control the emotions of his audience.

'And this tremendous victory is all down to our brave knights!' he
continued. 'With minimal arms, they plumbed the depths of their courage
to crush the force of Evil.'