Hubble Bubble - 5. Chapter 5

The ritual was waiting for me when I arrived back at my house. It was sitting on the living room table and I was not best pleased that somehow the Queen had got through my, not inconsiderable, defences with apparent ease. It was in the form of a roll of parchment, tied with a blue ribbon and written in what looked like blood but probably wasn’t.

The content of ritual, any ritual, is, by and large, irrelevant. Its purpose is to achieve; by surrounding the mind with certain ‘triggers’ in the form of colour, scents and sounds, and sending it down certain paths by way of repetitive actions and spoken words; the ascension of consciousness into a higher and more receptive state. ‘Altered state of consciousness’ I think is the technical term.

The first part of the ritual leads into the altered state in which you then carry out the purpose of the ritual with the second half leading out of the state back into mundane awareness.

The opening and closing of this ritual was no different from any other. In fact it has little instruction by way of ‘props’ and ceremony, other than the...unusual choice of words in certain areas which I grimly put down to a warped sense of humour on the part of the Queen. I may have been right, although if it was it backfired on her in the end.

It would not be difficult to gather together the items needed for the performance of the ritual... the participants now, that was a different matter, or so I thought.

In the event it was easier than I could possibly have imagined.

I had no problem finding the telephone number of Alex, the High Priest and I was hoping that he would be able to provide me with contact details for other members. However, when I telephoned him he informed me, in a state approaching shock that he had been contacted within the last two days by almost every one of the original coven members, seeking answers to why they had all been plagued by intensely vivid and uncomfortable dreams about Nick and the events of two years ago.

I’d thought I would have trouble convincing him that Nick’s apparent death had been a deception but he had been pondering the point himself after having engaged in some scrying experiments after his own set of dreams. He had considered contacting me a number of times over the preceding two days and only held off because of he was afraid of upsetting me, given my history with Nick. His hand had actually been on the telephone to ring me when I had rung him; hence the shock.

By the end of the day he had contacted every single member of the coven and, with the assistance of some gentle persuasion in some cases, all of them had agreed to participate in the ritual.

With it's members always having been scattered, although usually in the same general area, the coven had always tended to meet at Alex’s house. He lives in Avebury, a village build right inside an ancient stone circle and definitely a ‘place of power’ if ever there was one.

It was the natural choice for our meeting and so now I am driving along the A4 through the Wiltshire countryside on a rainy November morning, feeling deeply melancholy and well and truly rooted in the past. I have not been back this way since I left the area, and it was a very, very long time before that since I travelled this road alone. Even now, passing the familiar scenery, the white horse on the hill, I can almost feel Nick’s presence in the car with me.

He loved the horse and we have climbed that hill many times, in every weather. He particularly loved it in the snow and I have spent many hours freezing my butt off while he lingered, seemingly impervious to the cold. On reflection he probably was, the fey often are.

Lost in recollection I almost miss the turn but yank the car left at the last minute, earning a blast from the horn of the swish red sports car which was far too close behind me, necessitating a sharp swerve when I turned. I wind down the window and give him the finger, then forget all about him, forget even to wind up the window, as I turn my face towards the stones and feel the power begin to build.

I have always loved Avebury, always felt that it exists half in another world. At a certain point on the road the stones loom suddenly and eerily especially if, like today they are coming out of mist or rain. They are enormous, like Tolkien’s trolls, turned to stone by the first caress of the sun. They are spooky and strange and powerful. The first time I touched one I almost fainted.

Stones, especially ones raised for mystical purposes, tend to soak up energy and act like batteries for the etheric. There have been so many rituals performed here, in modern times let alone antiquity, that the stones cannot help but soak up and hold power. Their true meaning is now forever lost but I have always suspected the hand of the fey in there somewhere and so it is fitting that we are meeting here today.

I turn left down into the village past the pub and, again experience an overwhelming sense of nostalgia as I remember the good times we have had there, pre and post rituals, festivals and ceremonies. If the weather was nice we would sit outside at the picnic tables, watching the weird folk walk by. This place attracted them and there were always colourful people doing something or other and, more often than not, stopping off at the pub for a chat, a drink or a song.

We have spent so many happy times here, Nick and I... oh and Lucifer of course... I failed to mention that Nick, with Lucifer perpetually in tow was very much one of the ‘weird folk’. Again it is almost as if I can see his shade standing in the doorway, peering out into the rain.

Shivering I pull into the public car park, just opposite the shop, which is closed. Surprisingly the car park is full. I wonder which, if any of the cars belong to coven members. I don’t recognise any of them, but two years is a long time

Alex lives in a large rambling house set back a little from the main road. I open the front gate and duck under the ivy to step onto the short path to the front door. The garden is more overgrown than I remember it but, essentially just the same. The front door is exactly the same except that the, once glowing red paint is dulled and peeling. The brass knocker in the shape of a pentacle is slightly rusty but works fine.

I am surprised by how nervous I am, to be here, to see them, after so much time. However, as soon as the door opens I am enveloped in a voluptuous embrace, my face pressed into an enormous bosom which still smells of mothballs and violets.

“Sam!!!”

“Hey Ruthie.” My words are muffled for obvious reasons and she lets me go, holding me at arms length and looking down at me with a glowing smile. She is a big woman, is Ruth, in every way. Standing well over six feet tall and... erm... statuesquely built she would have given and Amazon warrior a run for her money. But she is so gentle, so sweet. The realisation of how much I have missed her, how much I have missed them all, brings tears to my eyes and I blink them back impatiently.

Ruth leads me into the sitting room, which has not changed at all and is still the epitome of shabby chic, warmed by a roaring fire in an enormous stone hearth. I am the last to arrive and they are all gathered around the fire. The room fills with calls of welcome and delight and suddenly it is as if we have never been apart.

Alex comes forward and hugs me warmly. He is just the same. Slightly broader perhaps, slightly older, his hairline slightly higher on his unlined forehead. He used to be clean shaven but now he has a goatee and it gives him a roguish appearance that belies the gentility and gentleness of his soul.

“It’s been too long Sam.”

I feel suddenly ashamed. These people were like family once. Hell, after my parents died they were my family. And yet I had not hesitated to turn my back on them. I feel like a fool.

For a while I am happy to lose myself in the general hubble bubble and, at some point a glass of wine has been thrust into my hand. I sip appreciatively, if a little hesitantly given what is to come. It is pleasant simply to be here, to be home again, although it does not entirely dismiss the tension that has been building in my gut.

Of course the conversation eventually comes round to the reason we are gathered there and I quickly outline everything that I have discovered or been told. I have emailed everyone a scanned copy of the ritual and Alex confirms that he has gathered together all the things we need. In truth there are few and those no more than would normally be used in a simple ritual and therefore easily to hand. A chalice, a sword, incense, water and candles. The only unusual thing is the little blue bottle which I have safely in my pocket.

After a time conversation wanes as the pre ritual tension builds. It is always this way before an important ritual and I have never taken part in one that has been more important, not to me. The ritual specifies that it should take place at noon and, well before this we all fall silent and break off into small groups speaking in soft voices or lost in our own contemplations and memories.

Despite the inclement weather I wander out into the back garden. It is as overgrown as the front, but the remembered scents of lavender and sage are still prevalent, enhanced by the damp air and fine mist of rain. Memories are thick here, lingering around the edges of the lawn where many rituals have been performed, drinks consumed and conversations engaged.

It was here I first met Nick, where we shared the first shy but meaning laden looks, where the first hesitant and terrifying steps were taken along the road to love, where we shared our first kiss. It had been on a night very like this, in the pouring rain after dancing alone under the moonlight when everyone else was sheltering inside, warming themselves around the fire. We had found our own warmth. Then, as ever, the small furry black body had been slinking in the shadows only manifesting much later when we were getting warm and dry, inveigling itself into our circle, stretching out in front of the fire.

I look around and wonder where he is. Wasn’t he supposed to be here? Perhaps he will meet me afterwards, or perhaps... but if... then... could it mean...? I shiver, wondering again about the words of the ritual, about the implications if they are as I suddenly realise they very well might be.

I am startled by a soft touch on my shoulder and turn to meet Alex’s warm gaze. He understands. He has always understood.

“Thinking back?”

“As always.”

“You miss him very much.” It was not a question but I nod my head in response, unable to speak in case my voice betrayed the sudden flood of emotion which is threatening to overwhelm me, closing my throat and filling my eyes with tears. Alex smiles. “We all miss him... we miss you both. It’s been a long time and yet in many ways it seems like only yesterday.” He looks around. “It’s almost as if I can look up and see that bloody cat slinking in the shadows and hear Nick calling from the kitchen... Maybe soon eh?”

Again I nod unable to trust my voice. Alex squeezes my shoulder and walks back towards the house calling over his shoulder.

“It’s almost time Sam. Meet you in the temple.”

The temple is the euphemistic term we adopted for Alex’s spare room which he uses for ritual, meditation and all manner of spiritual working. It is upstairs, facing East and its walls have absorbed the energies invoked there over and over again, so that it is impossible to cross the threshold without lowering your voice, casting off the mundane and becoming almost effortlessly relaxed and spiritually inclined.

With a sigh I turn away from the garden, the memories and the shadows of the past, and set my face firmly towards the future. There is no longer any need to look back with melancholy longing, no need to be sad, no need to miss Nick. If all goes well, by tonight he will be standing here with me. I steadfastly refuse to acknowledge the voice which whispers in the back of my mind wondering what, even if we are successful, will come back with us. After two years of untold horrors, will the Nick of today bear any resemblance to the Nick I knew and loved? Will he even know me any more? Will he want to be with me? Will he still love me?

My steps are heavy as they climb the stairs. The others are already there. Everything is laid out and most of them are in their robes. I change quickly and dump my clothes in a chest to one side of the room with the rest.

The room is large, at least thirty feet square. The floor, walls and ceiling are painted black with esoteric symbols picked out in silver here and there. On the floor two concentric circles, the larger about twenty feet across, and the smaller perhaps six inches smaller, are permanently set; white marble into black. Between the two is written in Nordic runes ‘The Great Tree spreads her branches to the heavens while her roots thrust deep into the earth. Let all who shelter beneath her canopy be nourished and find peace. Let all who hang from her branches be enlightened and find wisdom. Let all who embrace her be lifted up and transformed.’

The black velvet curtains are drawn closed and it is very dark. When the door closes behind me it is impossible to see where it had been. The only light comes from candles as thick as my wrist in tall black candlesticks set at the four quarters, North, South, East and West, just outside the circle. Another candle rests on the black clothed altar along with a glistening crystal chalice and a black handled silver knife. The air is thick with candle smoke and sweet with the incense that burns in a silver censer which swings from a chain on a stand next to the altar.

Moving with more confidence than I feel I walk across the circle and lay the blue bottle on the altar between the knife and chalice. Slowly, silently everyone takes their places around the circle, Alex in front of the altar and me at the centre. For the first time I wonder where Lucifer is. I had expected him to be here. I wonder again about the words of the ritual. In wondering I find that my pulse is racing slightly... could it be... and if it was what then?

Somewhere a clock chimes and as the first strokes of twelve ring out Alex speaks.

‘We are gathered together in this place at this time to assist our brother Samuel Bishop in his quest to restore to us our lost brother Nicholas Rayner. We vow to him to render assistance in whatever way we can and to watch over him and protect them both to the utmost of our abilities. So mote it be.’

From all around the circle soft voices chorus, ‘So mote it be.’

‘Let this place be prepared and made sacred for the purposes of this ritual.’

One of the men, Adam, who is sword bearer for this time steps forward and slowly walks around the circumference of the circle. When he stands before the altar in the east he unsheathes the ceremonial sword he wears at his hip and raises it high in the air.

‘May the light of the Great Universal shine down upon us and bless this, the sword of truth and justice that it may carve out of that Great Whole a place out of space and time where the work we do will be made holy and blessed by the Grace of the Source. So mote it be.’

‘So mote it be.’

Slowly he walks around the circle the point of the sword down and tilted slightly outwards, drawing and invisible line in the air. Only tonight it is not invisible. It is a thin blue line of light which, as he moves on expands and opens out so that, by the time he reached east again we are all encased in a bubble of pale blue energy which shuts us all away from the world outside. Everything beyond the light is invisible, insubstantial, unimportant. To all intents and purposes the outside world is no longer there.

Standing again before the altar Adam raises the sword flat over his head and intones again. ‘As it is said so is it done. So mote it be.’

‘So mote it be.’

Adam returns to his place and a woman leaves her place and walks slowly to the East. Her name is Megan. She lifts the chalice from the altar and holds it above her head.

‘May the light of the Great Universal shine down and bless this water that it might consecrate our circle and seal its borders to those who would interfere with our purpose or do us harm. So mote it be.’

‘So mote it be.’

I would swear that as she speaks the words the water begins to glow with the same blue light that now shimmers all around us. As she walks one complete revolution around the circle she sprinkles water, blessing the circle we have cast and the blue light deepens slightly.

When she has finished she replaces the chalice on the altar and moves back to her place. Alex takes the censer and swings it over his head, sweet silver smoke wreathing him in its curling tendrils as he says

‘May the breath of the Great Universal breathe upon us and consecrate our circle with sweet incense and seal its borders to those who would interfere with our purpose or do us harm. So mote it be.’

‘So mote it be.”

As Adam and Megan have before he walks the circle swinging the censer so that the curling silver smoke blends with the blue light swirling within it to completely conceal every last trace of the world outside.

When he has replaced the censer in its original position he turns to his left and raises his arms over his head. ‘May there be peace and light in the North.’ He then turns to face the opposite direction. ‘May there be peace and light in the South’ Turning left again he says ‘May there be peace and light in the East’ and finally ‘May there be peace and light in the West.’ Turning towards the centre we all join him in saying. ‘May there be peace and light throughout our world and all worlds’

‘Let all disturbing thoughts be laid aside. At this gathering within the mystic realms may the gateways be opened and our guardians and guides be welcomed into this place, two to guard and two to guide.’

Turning to the North he says. ‘With the blessing of the powers of the North and with the blessing of the Element of Earth we now call you by name – Guardian Granite.’

The blue light beyond the circle shimmers before Alex and, just as a man may walk through a waterfall a figure steps into the circle. Alex doesn’t bat an eyelid although there are gasps from around the circle. The slim youth holds an unsheathed sword upright before him and looks grim. I recognise him. He is the stone elemental I saw at the party. He catches my eye and slightly reclines his head. It is the only movement he makes, standing as thought made of the element he represents.

‘Welcome to our circle, guard it well.’

My heart begins to beat faster as Alex turns to the South and says. ‘With the blessing of the powers of the South and with the blessing of the Element of Fire we now call you by name – Guardian Ember.’

Again the barrier shimmers as a slender female figure steps through. I have not seen her before. Her skin is ruddy and she is dressed in a dress of artfully tattered cloth in shades of red, through orange to gold. She too carries an unsheathed sword upright before her and stands still and tall as Alex welcomes her.

‘Welcome to our circle, guard it well.’

My heartbeat picks up as he turns to the East and intones, ‘With the blessing of the powers of the East and with the blessing of the Element of Air we now call you by name – Guide Lucifer.’

Shit! My knees grow weak as Lucifer steps through the veil and slouches in his usual stance, a familiar mocking smirk on his face. His eyes glitter with something other than amusement though and his lip curls. I have a sinking feeling about what is about to happen and deep down inside I am begging... please don’t do this, please. Oh no, no, no. Around me the ritual proceeds but I am no longer paying attention as I unconsciously turn my face towards the West.

‘Welcome to our circle, guide our brothers well.’

Wholly unconscious of my dilemma, my distress, Alex continues with the ritual and all eyes follow him towards the West, although some of them continue either to stare or sneak glances at Lucifer. They do, after all, know who he is and all of them must be wondering what secrets he knows about them, after sneaking about in their midst as a ‘mere’ cat for so long.

I am brought suddenly and shockingly out of my ponderings. ‘With the blessing of the powers of the West and with the blessing of the Element of Water we now call you by name – Guide Ariel.’ Ah shit, shit, shit. Bitch!!

Ariel looks much as he ever did, strong again although, when our eyes meet there is a certain something about him that disturbs me, even though he smiles warmly. It’s his eyes. They are haunted, tormented even and his face is gaunt and so pale it glows in the eerie blue light. I glance back at Lucifer and his smirk has become a snarl. Just great.

‘Welcome to our circle, guide our brothers well.’

I am barely aware of Alex completing the opening of the ritual. With Lucifer’s eyes boring into the back of my head my eyes lock with Ariel’s and I am overwhelmed by the emotion he invokes within me. I have never seen anything or anyone so beautiful and so... open. He is vulnerable, I can see that. There is a slight tremor in his hand and he is chewing on his lip. Something behind his eyes is pleading with me and I can’t bear it. I cast my eyes downwards and it is only then that I am aware that Alex is standing before me holding the chalice. The water is gone and instead a sparkling blue liquid swirls within.

He holds it up, offering it to me and I take it. Our eyes meet and he smiles at me, nodding once then steps back to complete the circle.

Taking a deep breath I raise the chalice to my lips and drink deeply. It does not taste of anything, in fact it does not feel like liquid at all, disappearing as it touches my lips. All I am left with is a lingering taste of sweetness.

For a moment nothing happens and I begin to wonder if something has gone wrong. I feel no different and nothing has changed. And then I hear the tinkle of glass as the chalice shatters on the marble. Surprised I look down to find my body lying crumpled at my feet. My conscious awareness remains standing upright facing the altar but my physical form has collapsed and it was my own hand, holding the chalice, hitting the floor which caused it to break.

In complete shock I become aware of someone standing at my right shoulder and another at my left. I had not even seen Lucifer move, even though I had been facing him. He places one hand on my shoulder and Ariel does the same on the other side. At their gentle...and not so gentle urging I walk forwards, through Alex, through the altar, through the barrier of light and into the unknown.

I must have closed my eyes when I stepped through the barrier because now I open them and find that we are in a dark place. It seems as though we are standing on a circular platform, about six feet in diameter. On all sides shimmering silver strands, like narrow rope bridges stretch out to other similar platforms, on and on into infinity, or so it seems. Overall the impression is of standing in the middle of a giant spider web that, instead of being flat curves around to enclose us on all sides. I would hate to see the spider which spun this web.

The true strangeness of it is lost to me at this time. I am too shocked by what has happened to be affected by more wonders. Instead I focus on the one thing that is foremost in my mind. Turning I embrace Ariel. At first he is stiff and unyielding but, after a moment he returns my embrace.

“Are you alright?”

“I am... strong again.”

“But are you alright?”

I pull away and look into his eyes. They are dark, almost a midnight blue and the golden flecks are dancing like stars in a mid winter sky. He lowers his eyes and turns his head away.

“Ariel?”

“I am...” He glances over my shoulder and flinches. “I am capable of fulfilling my purpose in your quest Sam.”

“I’m certain you are but that is not what I am asking you.” He tries to turn away and I catch him by the shoulders and draw him back. “Ariel? What’s wrong?”

“Take no notice of him Sam. He’s been like this since you left, a snivelling wretch. Anyone would think he is the only one in the world who ‘feels’.” The last word is a sneer and I feel Ariel wince and begin to tremble under my hands. “I don’t know why the Queen chose to send him on such an important quest. He’s been moping around for weeks declaring that he ‘wishes only to die for love’.” The trembling increases and his eyes go wide.

“I....I have not.”

“You’ve been thinking it though. Everyone knows...”

“Shut up Lucifer. Hang on... what do you mean weeks?” The second part of his statement hits me. “What do you mean ‘love’?”

Lucifer smirks, an evil glint in his eyes. “Surely you know Sam, that time passes differently in our world. You have been shielded from it but there, it has been two months since you left and in that time your precious Ariel has got it into his silly little head that he is in love with you.”

If Lucifer had taken out a knife and thrust it into my heart he could not have hurt me more. From the way that Ariel goes stiff and the trembling increases I can tell the cold, scornful words have struck him even harder. He hangs his head low and I release one of his shoulders to gently raise his head with fingers under the chin.

Even though he doesn’t resist when I raise his head he will not look at me, his eyes downcast.

“Ariel?”

At the sound of his name he glances up and once our eyes have met he cannot look away. He is fragile, I can see that. There is a desperation in his eyes that holds a hint of madness. What have I done? What can I do?

“Ariel I...”

“No.” His voice is unexpectedly strident. “I don’t want to hear. I don’t want to hear it, not from you. I know the situation.” He glances at Lucifer. “I have been told often enough. You love Nick. I understand.” He sounds awful, as if he is falling apart.

I glare at Lucifer who smirks, an evil look in his eyes. “Listen to me Ariel. No listen.” He tries to pull away but I hold him, making him look at me. “Love is a powerful emotion, probably the most powerful. But it is also the most confusing. There are many different kinds of love and many emotions very similar to it. It is easy to get lost and confused. I’m not saying that you are confused. I am not trying to take anything away from what you feel. It's just that this is all new to Ariel, all of it.

“Most of us have a lifetime to develop our feelings, to learn to control them. You’ve had two months. And not only that but being who you are you feel them more strongly than the rest of us. You have to be easy on yourself. You have to accept that the emotions you feel, the confusion, the pain, are transient. You have to learn to control them and not let them control you. You are strong and I know that you can do it.”

He squirms in my grip and tries to look away. “Ariel, I am your friend. I will always be your friend and as your friend I love you. You are beautiful in every way and I am so honoured that the first person you felt love for is me.” He stops squirming and stares at me wide eyed. If I had thought that he was beautiful before that was nothing to the way he looked to me now, in the strange half light, his eyes filled with emotion as I had never seen them before, his lips parted, trembling.

I brush the hair out of his face and am surprised to find that my own hand is shaking. “Love can be a wonderful thing Ariel, but it can be dangerous too. It can make you angry and bitter when it isn’t what you want it to be. I can’t be what you want me to be. I’m truly sorry, but I can’t. My heart isn’t free to give, it belongs to someone else. But I can share it with you, I can love you as a friend, a dear friend, and I always will.”

Tears are pouring down his face and he makes no attempt to stop them or wipe them away. I can see the pain in his eyes as clearly as if he had been screaming it. It hurts me to know that I am hurting him but I can’t give him what he wants and I can’t let him believe I can.

“I’m sorry.”

Ariel licks his lips and swallows hard, clearly making an effort but it isn’t enough, it could never be enough. “I love you Sam.”

“I know...”

“Oh, puleeeze. Will you two just stop it? Stop whining Ariel. Stop encouraging him Sam. By all that is holy Ariel do you really imagine for one moment that Sam would be interested in someone like you when he has....”

“Shut up Lucifer....!!” In that moment I wanted to hit him so badly that my hand clenched of its own accord and I gritted my teeth. Unfortunately the damage was done. Ariel pulls away from me and turns his back, his shoulders slumped. I want to say something but there really isn’t anything to say.

Lucifer sidles over to me and prowls around me, a cruel half smile on his face. “You really should be more careful in your choice of friends Sam. Have you no consideration of what Nick will think when he returns? Do you think he will be happy to find out that while he was suffering you were enjoying yourself with a... with that?”

Anger explodes inside me and I whirl, grabbing him by the front of his immaculate black shirt. “Don’t you dare threaten me. Nick knows how I feel about him and there has never been a moment’s doubt between us. If you even think of dripping your poison in his hear I will cut out your tongue.”

“That would be very... convenient wouldn’t it? Given what I could tell him.”

“Tell him what you will he...”

“Sam.... there is trouble.”

Ariel is still standing at the edge of the platform, staring out into the tangle of silver threads. His shoulders are no longer slumped but thrown back and his whole stance is one of readiness for... what?

I walk over to him and peer over his shoulder. The spaces between the platforms and the threads are dark and seemingly empty. And yet... and yet... There is something moving, a thickening in the darkness and if I screw up my eyes I can almost believe that I can see something else, pinpoints of light moving slowly closer... eyes.

“Where is this place?”

“To some it is called the Dreamtime. It is a place between worlds. On each of the platforms is the doorway into someone’s dreams. The realm is said to be inhabited by demons. I think it would be a good idea if we moved.”

“’Said to be inhabited?’ Can it be that you don’t know everything after all?” Lucifer scowled at me.

“Do you really want to wait around to find out?”

I look around nervously and shake my head. “No, not really. Where do we go?”

“That’s where you come in. Somewhere out there is Nick’s platform, a doorway into his dreams and the way to reach him. You are the one with the closest link with him.” He sounds begrudging in admitting that and it gives me a flash of grim satisfaction. “Concentrate on the web lines and you should be drawn to the right one.”

“Hang on a minute... You mean that we are going to go out there... walking on tightropes suspended over goodness knows what, looking for a platform that is like every other platform, with no way of knowing which one is the right one and a good possibility of being attacked at any time by ... something that may or may not be out there. And if we do find him then how will be find this platform again?”

“That’s your job, not mine.”

“And what exactly is your job?”

“Making sure you don’t get followed home again, like you did last time.”

“Oh.. fuck you!”

Lucifer grins and I turn my back on him, unable to bear to look at his face. I close my eyes and try to compose myself. It is hard to conjure Nick’s image into my mind, surprising considering he is so close... so close.

And then... and then I feel it, a tug at the edge of my consciousness, a familiar touch. The scent of lilac fills the air and when I open my eyes some of the silver strands are shining brighter than the rest. Lucifer is looking at them with a look of triumph on his face and Ariel as though the very sight of them is killing him. With a sigh I take a chance and step out onto the silver thread.

I had thought that it would be like walking a tightrope but as soon as my foot is on the thread it becomes stable, a road of light that leads me into the darkness that is suddenly not so dark after all. My stride gets more confident as I go on and when I look over my shoulder I am surprised to see that, although Lucifer is close behind me Ariel is hesitating looking afraid.

“Come on Ariel. It’s not as bad as it looks, honestly. Once you step onto it you will be fine, it turns into a road. Don't be afraid.”

He looks up at me his eyes wide, his face fearful and then... something rises up behind him. I can’t say what it is, it is formless, huge. Ariel turns towards it and seems to shrink as it looms over him, two glowing orbs in its inky darkness suggestive of eyes, their position changing as the thing ebbs and flows.

“Ariel...” My scream is lost in the sudden silence which is so profound it swallows the sound before it leaves my lips.