I sat there for a long moment, enjoying the solid support of a floor that stayed still, then I hauled myself painfully slowly to my feet. I don't know when I've ever felt so tired. I looked across at the Collector, who was walking round and round his crystal contraption and cursing loudly as bits fell off it. He actually chattered with rage and kicked spitefully at the pieces on the floor.

"b.l.o.o.d.y thing! I'll never get another one like this! Not after the extra security they've installed since my last visit... This trip had better have been worth it, Henry!"

Walker strolled over to pat him soothingly on the shoulder. "Leave strategy to me, Mark. You know I've always been the devious one. You never did explain. What is this thing, exactly?"

"Well, originally it was a four-dimensional climbing frame for really gifted children in the thirtieth century. I acquired it when no-one was looking, and adapted it for interdimensional travel. Not as accurate as some of my other Time travel mechanisms, but just basically weird enough to sneak in and catch Lilith by surprise. And now look at it! I'd better get compensation for this, Henry."

"I'll see you're provided with the correct forms," Walker said briskly. "And how are we, Taylor?"

"We feel like s.h.i.t," I said, collapsing into the nearest chair. "Why did you send that creep to rescue me?"

"Because you were obviously incapable of rescuing yourself, you ungrateful little t.u.r.d!" snapped the Collector. "We watched you talking with Lilith through one of Merlin's visions, once he detected your reappearance, and a right b.a.l.l.s up you were making of it. So Henry sent me in as the cavalry. And if you're wondering why someone of my good sense has joined this doomed resistance, reluctantly and very much against my better judgement, I can only put it down to emotional blackmail."

"I simply pointed out that if Lilith has her way with the Nightside, there will be nothing left to collect," said Walker.

"b.l.o.o.d.y vandal!" said the Collector. "I haven't spent the best part of my life putting together the greatest collection of treasures and wonders in this or any other universe, just so the Great White b.i.t.c.h can wipe it all out. Women never appreciate the true value of collectibles..."

"I knew you'd come, if I asked," said Walker. "What are old friends for?"

The Collector looked at him coldly. "Don't push it, Henry. We haven't been friends for over twenty years, and you know it. You've been doing your best to have me arrested, ever since that unfortunate incident over the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. h.e.l.l, I haven't seen you in the flesh since Charles's funeral." He looked at me, then back at Walker. His voice softened, just a little. "You've got old, Henry. Respectable."

"You got fat."

I left them to their somewhat p.r.i.c.kly reunion, forced myself up out of my chair, and stumbled over to the bar. Lilith had taken a lot out of me. Alex was in his usual place behind the bar and actually had a large wormwood brandy waiting for me. He'd put a little umbrella in it, just because he knew I hated them. He didn't want me to think he was getting soft. I threw the umbrella away, took a long drink, and nodded gratefully to him. He nodded back. We've never been very demonstrative.

"Did any of my people make it back here?" I said finally.

"Only me," said Suzie Shooter.

I turned around, and there she was. Shotgun Suzie, her black leathers almost falling apart from tears and slashes, and soaked with dried blood. Her bandoliers were empty of bullets, and all the grenades were gone from her belt. Even her shotgun was missing from its holster on her back. She half sat, half collapsed onto the bar stool beside me, and Alex put a bottle of gin in front of her. I was too tired to do more than smile at her, to show how glad I was to see her still alive, and she nodded in return.

"You should have seen the shape she was in, when she came back without you," said Alex. "Took three of my best repair spells to put her back together again. I put them on your tab, Taylor. Though given the way things are going, maybe you should settle up now, while there's still time."

"I broke my shotgun," said Suzie, ignoring Alex with the ease of long practice. "Had to use it as a club when I ran out of ammo. And I left my best stiletto in some b.a.s.t.a.r.d's eye. All my weapons are gone. I feel naked."

"How did you make it back here, through all those mobs?" I asked.

"A variety of blunt instruments and a whole lot of bad temper," said Suzie.

"Have you seen any of the others?"

"No," said Suzie, staring at her bottle of gin without touching it. "But Dead Boy was dead to begin with, and Razor Eddie's a G.o.d. I wouldn't be surprised to see either of them stroll back in here, eventually."

"But not Tommy Oblivion," I said.

"No. His brother Larry went out to look for him, as soon as he heard what happened. No-one's heard anything from him since."

"Julien Advent is out and about," said Alex. "Supposedly pulling Walker's remaining people together into an army, for one last desperate a.s.sault on Lilith's forces."

"No!" I said. I pushed myself away from the bar, and stalked over to confront Walker. He deliberately ignored me, continuing his talk with the Collector, so I grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him around. I don't know which of us was more surprised. It had been a long time since anyone had dared treat Walker like that. "You can't fight Lilith's army with an army of your own," I said, as forcefully as I could. "You'll destroy the Nightside, fighting over it. n.o.body wins. I've seen it."

"You're sure of this?" said Walker.

"Oh yes. I've talked to people in the future, people who lived through it. They were the only ones left. You'd know some of the names if I said them, but trust me on this, Walker, you really don't want to know. Believe me, you can't win this with an army."

"Then what do you suggest?" said Walker, and I swear his voice was just as calm and courteous and civilised as ever, even though I'd just kicked away his last hope. "What else can we do, except fight?"

"You have to do something," said Merlin, his voice just a harsh rasp. "And you'd better do it soon. My defences are under constant attack. I don't know how much longer I can maintain them."

I looked round. I'd actually overlooked the ancient sorcerer, sitting slumped and alone at a table in the corner. He looked very old and very tired, even for a fifteen-hundred-year-old corpse. His grey face was slack, the crimson flames barely stirring in his empty eye-sockets.

"Keeping Lilith out, holding her off, is taking everything I've got," Merlin said, not even looking at me. "It's draining me dry, Taylor. I need my heart. There's still time. Find my stolen heart for me, bring it here, and put it back in my chest, and I could be a Power again. I could bring myself back to life, wrap myself in glory, and go out to face Lilith head to head."

"I don't think so," I said. "You are Satan's only begotten son, born to be the Antichrist. I won't risk loosing that on the Nightside."

"That's right, blame me for my family background! You of all people should know that we aren't always our parent's children. Do you want me to beg, Taylor? Then I'll beg! Not for me, but for the Nightside. For all of us."

"I can't do it," I said. "I know where your heart is. And there's no way I can get it for you."

"Then we're all dead," said Merlin. "Dead and d.a.m.ned."

"Look, if he can't protect me, then I'm getting the h.e.l.l out of here," said the Collector. "Come on, Henry, I only agreed to come here because you a.s.sured me this bar was safer than any of my bolt-holes. I only agreed to rescue Taylor because you said he was vital to our survival."

"Shut the h.e.l.l up," I said, feeling the anger build within me. "You don't get to complain, Collector. Not when all of this is your fault anyway! You made possible the Babalon Working that brought Lilith back out of Limbo! You put my father together with my mother and made me possible!"

The Collector wouldn't meet my eyes. "I was misled," he said finally. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Leave Mark alone," said Walker, moving forward to stand beside the Collector. "We all thought we were doing the right thing, back then. Including your father. We never meant for any of this to happen... You're looking at me strangely, John. What is it?"

"I've just had an idea," I said. I could feel my smile spreading into a broad grin, and suddenly I didn't feel tired any more. "I'm John Taylor, remember? I always have one more trick up my sleeve. And this one's a beauty! There is a way to stop Lilith that doesn't involve fighting. All we have to do is put together the three men who originally summoned Lilith through the Babalon Working, have them restart the spell, then reverse it, sending Lilith back into Limbo! The door you created with the Working is still open, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," said Walker. "We never got the chance to close it. By the time we realised the door hadn't shut itself, the three of us had separated, determined never to work together again. It wasn't as if the door mattered; it was only slightly ajar, undetectable except to the three of us. No-one else could use it. Lilith's entrance had attuned it to her, and her only."

"But the three of you working together could restart the magic," I said. "Push the door all the way open, force Lilith through it, into Limbo, then close the door after her! It would work! Wouldn't it?"

"Technically, yes," said the Collector, frowning. "Though one of us would have to go through the door with Lilith, to make sure she couldn't open it again from the other side, until we closed the doorway. And whoever went through... would be trapped with Lilith in Limbo, for all eternity. So you needn't look at me. I have far too much to live for. And I never got on with her anyway, even when she was only Charles's wife."

"You never did understand about duty," said Walker. "I'll do it."

"No," I said. "I'll go. You know it has to be me."

"No it doesn't!" said Suzie, almost savagely. "Why does it always have to be you, John? Haven't you done enough?"

"This is all, unfortunately, quite irrelevant," said Walker. "It's a good plan, John, but there's no way we can make it work. It took the three of us to establish the Babalon Working, and only the three of us could hope to restart it. And your father is dead, John."

"Not any more," I said. "Lilith raised the dead in the Necropolis graveyard, remember? Brought them all back to life and sent them out into the Nightside." I could see the light of understanding dawning in everyone's eyes. "He's out there, somewhere. My father. Charles Taylor. And who's better suited to find him than me?"

I forced my gift awake, and it showed me a vision of my returned father. He was doing research in the Prospero and Michael Scott Memorial Library, rooting through the ruins and collecting books from overturned stacks. He piled the books up on a desk, and searched desperately through each volume, looking for... something. I studied him for a while. He didn't look much older than I was. In fact, he looked a lot like me. I took hold of Walker's and the Collector's hands, so they could see him, too.

"Typical Charles," said the Collector, almost wistfully. "He never could abide taking orders from anyone. Including, it would seem, an ex-wife who brought him back from the dead. She should have known he'd go his own way."

"I don't think she knows about him," said Walker. "She's got other things on her mind, just now."

"What's he doing, burying himself in books when the world's coming to and end?" said the Collector.

"Doing what he always does," said Walker. "Research. He's looking for answers."

I looked back at Merlin. "Open a door for me, between here and there. I need to talk to my father."

The dead sorcerer scowled at me. "If I remove my concentration from the bar's defences, even for a moment, Lilith will know what's happening here."

"Let her," I said. "All that matters now is getting these three old friends back together. So they can put right their old wrong."

"G.o.d, you sound like your father sometimes," said the Collector. "He could be a right pain in the a.r.s.e on occasion, too."

Merlin gestured angrily with an unsteady hand, and the Library vision became real as an opening appeared in s.p.a.ce, linking the bar with the Library. My father was so immersed in his books he didn't even notice. I stepped carefully through the opening into the Library and coughed meaningfully. My father scrambled up out of his chair and backed away from me, holding a heavy paperweight like a weapon. I slowly raised my hands, to show they were empty.

"Take it easy," I said. "I'm not here to hurt you. I need your help."

Charles Taylor studied me suspiciously, then put the paperweight down on the desk. "You look familiar. Do I know you?"

It hit me harder than I'd expected, to hear my father's voice again after so many years. It made him real again, in a way just the sight of him hadn't. I lowered my hands, and suddenly I didn't know what to say. Too many things I wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, but I couldn't find the words.

"How did you find me here?" he said. "You don't have the look of one of Lilith's creatures. Though I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before... but it doesn't matter. I can't help you. You'll have to leave. I'm very busy."

"You know me," I said. "Though it's been a long time. I'm John. I'm your son, John."

"My G.o.d," he said, and he sat down suddenly on his chair, as though all the strength had gone out of his legs. "John... Look at you... All grown-up. You look... a lot like my father. Your grandfather. Of course, you never knew him..."

"You went away," I said. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, but that only made it sound even colder. "Abandoned me to my Enemies, when I was just a child. You left me alone when I needed you the most. You drank yourself to death rather than raise me. Why?"

Charles sighed heavily. He looked at his books, as though for answers, and then he made himself look back at me. "You have to understand... I'd been betrayed so many times: by friends I thought I could trust, by the woman I believed loved me. Your mother... was my last chance. To be a man again, to be sane again. To do good work, work that mattered. She was my life, my hope, my dreams. I never loved anyone like I loved her. When Pew told me the truth, showed me the hard evidence... I almost killed him. I went looking for her, but she was already gone. Just as well. I don't know what I would have done... And you, John, you'd meant so much to me, and now I was afraid you were a lie, too. Because if I couldn't depend on my wife to be my wife, if she wasn't even human... how could I depend on you to be my son? I was afraid you'd turn out to be a monster, like your mother."

"No," I said. "I'm nothing like my mother."

He smiled, and it was like a hand crushing my heart. I remembered that smile, from long ago, though I'd forgotten it. till that moment.

"I've been reading about you, son. Reports of your old cases, in the Night Times. Quite the adventures, I gather. Helping people who couldn't help themselves, solving mysteries, bringing down the bad guys... I also read some of the editorial pieces, by Julien Advent. The great Victorian Adventurer. He doesn't seem too sure whether he approves of you, but he approves of what you achieved, and that's good enough for me. You've made yourself the hero I always meant to be, but life got in the way..."

"It's not too late," I said. "There is a way you can stop Lilith. Come with me. Two old friends are waiting to greet you."

He got up from his chair and stood before me. We were exactly the same height. Two men of roughly the same age, but with far more than our share of experience.

"There is a way?" he said. "Really?"

"I believe so."

"Then let's do it." He put a hesitant hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry I let you down, son. Sorry... I wasn't strong enough."

"Everyone else let you down," I said. "They all lied to you. Betrayed you. That stops now."

"I read everything they had on you here," said Charles Taylor. "You've done well, in my absence. I'm proud of you, son."

"That's all I ever wanted," I said.

I think he would have hugged me then, but I wasn't ready for that. I still had to be strong. I led the way back through the opening, into the bar, and he came through after me. Merlin immediately shut the opening down. My father looked around him.

"My G.o.d, it's Strangefellows! Is this dump still going? d.a.m.n, I had some times here..."

"Yes, you did," Walker said dryly. "Though I seem to recall I always ended up having to foot the bill. You were famous in those days for never having your wallet on you."

My father turned round and looked at Walker, then at the Collector. He frowned, clearly uncertain, and then his face broke into a broad grin, and all three of them laughed. It was an open, happy laugh, blowing away all the old hurts and quarrels, and the three men fell on each other, clapping shoulders and backs with loud happy words. It was odd to see Charles Taylor looking so much younger than his contemporaries, but there was no denying how naturally they fit together. As though they belonged together, and always had. Eventually they stood back and studied each other.

"It's good to have you back, Charles," said Walker. "You're looking good. Being dead clearly agreed with you."

"I've missed you, Charles," said the Collector. "I really have. No-one could hold their own in an argument like you. So; what was it like, being dead?"

"I really don't remember," said Charles. "Probably just as well. But look at you... both of you! Henry... what happened? You look so distinguished! And you always swore you'd rather die than be trapped in a suit and tie, like all the other city drones. Are you really part of the Establishment these days?"

"h.e.l.l," said the Collector. "He is the Establishment."

"And Mark... Ten out of ten for style, but when did you get so fat?"

"Now don't you start," said the Collector. "Do you like the blazer? I got it from this retired secret agent. I got his weird car, too, while he was looking for his blazer. You have got to see my collection, when all this is over. I've acquired more fabulous, junk and kitsch than any man living!"

"I always knew you had it in you, Mark," my father said solemnly, and all three of them laughed.

"This is a new thing," Merlin said quietly to me. "Unforeseen and unexpected. Who knows what might come of this?"

"You never foresaw what's happening here?" I said.

"I don't think anyone ever foresaw this, boy! So many disparate elements needed, so many unlikely happenstances, to bring these three together again, after so many years. And all because of you, John Taylor."

"So," I said. "We have a chance now?"

"Oh no," said Merlin, turning away. "We're all still going to die, or be destroyed, along with the rest of the Nightside."

"The Babalon Working," said Charles Taylor, and I immediately paid attention again. My father was frowning thoughtfully. "Our greatest achievement, and our greatest crime. Do we really dare start it up again?"

"Do we have time?" said Walker. "Back then, it took us days to get the ritual up and working properly, nearly destroying ourselves in the process. And we were a lot younger and stronger and better prepared, back then."

"We don't need to go through the whole ritual again," the Collector said confidently. "You never did listen when I explained the theory of it, Henry. The magic is still operating in infras.p.a.ce, because we never shut it down. It's hanging there, suspended at the moment we were interrupted. That's why the door we opened is still ajar. All we have to do is make contact with the magic again."

"And that should be easy enough," said Charles. "We're the only three keys that fit that lock."

"On the other hand," said the Collector, "a lot could go wrong. It's always dangerous, picking up an interrupted magic. We could all be killed."

"Dying would be vastly more pleasant than what Lilith has in store for us," said Walker.