Amaziga had died, cut down by a hail of bullets, her beautiful face shattered and torn.

Amaziga was alive!

Oh, G.o.d!

It was all too much. Sam stared up at the sky. Not a single bird flew, and as far as the eye could see not one living creature roamed the land. The Bloodstone had sucked the world dry. The sun was shining, the sky powder-blue and dappled with clouds. Sam lay back on the gra.s.s, his thoughts haphazard, chaotic. Amaziga came walking up towards him and his eyes drank in her lithe movements, the swaying, unself-conscious s.e.xuality, the lightness of step. G.o.d, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known!

I don't know her!

'We need to talk, Sam,' she said softly, sitting beside him.

'Let's talk about our shared memories,' he said, more harshly than he intended. 'You recall the summer in Lost Hawk, near the lake?'

She shook her head sadly. 'You and I have shared no summers, though I don't doubt that some of our memories will be linked. That's not the point, Sam. I crossed the universe to find you and save you from death. I could not save my own Sam, any more than you could protect the Amaziga you knew. But we are each the identical copies of the originals.

Everything I loved about my Sam you share, and that is why I can say -without fear of contradiction - that I love you, Sam. I love you and I need you.'

'Who is the boy?' asked Sam, knowing the answer but needing the confirmation.

'Your son - the son you would have sired. Whichever.'

'He's a fine man, brave and steady. I could be proud of a son like that.'

Then be proud, Sam,' she urged him. 'Come with us. Together we can try to stop a world falling. It won't be our own, but it will be a world just like the one that almost died. We can save it, Sam. We can fulfil the dream of the Guardians.'

'And what of the Bloodstone?'

She spread her hands. 'What of him, Sam? He has killed a world. He will not be able to feed. He is finished anyway.'

Sam shook his head. 'Sarento was no fool. What is to stop him from finding other worlds?

No, I have pledged myself to destroy him, and that I must do.'

Amaziga was silent for a moment. This is foolish, Sam; we both know it. His powers are beyond us. You have a plan? Or is this just a quixotic impulse that will not allow you to know when you are beaten?'

'My Amaziga would not have asked that,' he said.

'Yes, she would, Sam, and you know it. You are a romantic and an idealist. She never was.

Was she?'

He sighed and turned his face away from her, staring down at the small cl.u.s.ter of buildings and the two men who waited there. 'Who is the cold killer?' he asked, avoiding the question.

'His name is Shannow. In his own world they call him the Jerusalem Man. He too had an impossible dream - but he learned the folly of such fantasies.'

'He does not look like a dreamer. Nor does he look like a man who has lost hope.' Swinging back towards her, he smiled. 'You are right, my Ziga would have asked the same question.

What interests me is how you will react to what I am about to say. Or can you predict it?'

'Oh, I can predict it, Sam,' she told him. 'You are going to say that running away would destroy you, for it would mean turning your back on everything you believe in. Or something like it. You are going to tell me that you will continue the battle against the Bloodstone, even if I say we will leave without you. Am I right?'

'I can't deny it.'

'And you are wrong, Sam. Oh, I admire you for your courage, but you are wrong. Before coming here we studied the Bloodstone. Sarento cannot be harmed by any weapon in our possession. He is invulnerable. We cannot shoot him, starve him or burn him. We could pack him in a thousand tons of ice, and it would have no effect upon him. So tell me, Sam, how will" you fight this monster?'

Sam looked away. There has to be a way. G.o.d knows there has to be.'

'If there is, my love, we will not find it here. Perhaps in the world before the Fall we can find something - and then come back.'

Sam thought about it for a while, then slowly nodded. 'You are right - as always. How do we get to your world?'

Amaziga laughed. 'Don't look so crestfallen. There is so much we can do together for the good of all mankind. You are alive, Sam! And we are together.'

'And the Bloodstone is triumphant,' he whispered.

'Only for now,' she a.s.sured him.

Shannow glanced up at the two of them, watching their embrace.

Gareth moved alongside him. 'Well, we did it, Mr Shannow. We brought the lovers back together.'

Shannow nodded, but said nothing, turning his gaze to the distant mountains and the fringe of the desert to the north. 'You think they will follow us?' asked Gareth.

'Count on it,' Shannow told him. 'According to Lucas, it would take them most of a day to find a path down for their horses. Even so, I don't like the idea of sitting here and waiting.

Four people with three tired horses? We won't outrun them, that's for sure.' He stood and wandered back to a brick-built well to the rear of the first house. Lowering the bucket, he dunked it below the surface, then hauled it back to the top. The water was cool and clear and he drank deeply. The death of the olive-skinned girl had touched him: she was so young, with untold paths lying before her. Now she would walk none of them, her life snuffed out by a murdering band of killers, serving an abomination.

Not for the first time he wondered how men could descend to such barbarism. He remembered the words of Varey Shannow: 'Jon, Man is capable of greatness, love, n.o.bility, compa.s.sion. Yet never forget that his capacity for evil is infinite. It is a sad truth, boy, that if you sit now and think of the worst tortures that could ever be inflicted on another human being, they will already have been practised somewhere. If there is one sound that follows the march of humanity, it is the scream.'

Gareth led the horses to the well and filled a second bucket. 'You look far away, Mr Shannow,' said the young man. 'What were you thinking?'

Shannow did not reply. Turning, he saw Amaziga and Sam approaching hand in hand.

'We're ready to go,' she said.

The horses will need to rest for tonight,' said Shannow. They're worn out. We'll make use of one of these houses and leave at first light. I'll take the first watch.'

To his surprise, Amaziga offered no argument. Removing the headband and silver boxes that contained Lucas, she handed them to him, pointing out how to engage the machine, and warning him of the need to limit the use so as to conserve the energy.

Sam and Amaziga went into the first house. Gareth remained for a moment with Shannow; he grinned. 'I think I'll sleep in the next house,' he said. 'I'll relieve you in four hours.'

Removing his hat, Shannow slid the headband into place and then looped the shoulder rig across his right shoulder and pressed the b.u.t.ton on the first box. Seconds later he heard Lucas's soft voice. Ts everyone safe?'

'Yes,' said Shannow.

'I can't hear you, Mr Shannow. Engage the microphone. It eases from the headband. Once in position it will activate automatically.'

Shannow twisted the slender rod into place. 'Yes, we are safe. Amaziga has Sam.'

There is sadness in your voice. I take it there was some tragedy?'

'Many people died, Lucas.'

'Ah yes ... I see her now. Young and beautiful. You did not want to leave her. Oh, Mr Shannow. The world can be so savage.' Lucas was silent for a moment. 'What a lonely place this is,' he said at last. 'No birds, no animals. Nothing. Would you turn your head, Mr Shannow? There is a camera in the headband. I will scan the countryside.' Shannow did as he was bid. 'Nothing,' said Lucas. 'Not even an insect. Truly this is a dead place. Wait... I am picking up something. . .'

'What? Riders?'

'Shhh. Wait, please.' Shannow scanned the distant mountains, seeking any sign of movement, but there was nothing that he could see in the fading light. Finally the voice of Lucas drifted back. Tell Amaziga that we will be travelling back through the stone circle in Babylon; it is closer.'

'You want us to ride to the h.e.l.lborn city?' asked Shannow, astonished.

'It will save half a day.'

There is the matter of an enemy nation to consider,' observed Shannow.

Trust me,' said Lucas. 'Ride north-east tomorrow. Now, Mr Shannow, please cut the power. I have seen all I want to see.'

Shannow flicked the switch, then removed the headband.

Else Broome could not sleep. Her enormous body tossed and turned on the rickety bed, the springs creaking in protest at the weight. She was angry. Her husband had lost his mind and shot down the Prophet, ending in one miserable moment all her dreams of status and respect. He had always been useless, weak and spineless, she thought. I should never have married him. And she wouldn't have, had Edric Scayse not rejected her. Men!

Scayse would have been a considerable catch - rich, handsome, respected. He had also died young, which would have left Else as the grieving widow, heir to his fortune and able to live a life of luxury, perhaps even in Unity. The Widow Scayse. It was a delicious thought. Yet despite every inducement she could offer, Scayse had remained immune to her advances, and she had been forced to settle for second-best. Second-best? She almost laughed at the thought. Josiah Broome was the runt of the litter. But through good fortune -and the benefit of a sensible wife - he had risen to a place of eminence among the people of Pilgrim's Valley.

Now even that small gain was gone for good. Today, on the main street, in front of everyone, several women had crossed the road to avoid Else Broome. Eyes were downcast as she pa.s.sed - all except for Ezra Feard, Josiah's main compet.i.tor. He had smiled broadly and his thin witch of a wife had hurried out to stand beside him, gloating in Else's downfall.

And it would get worse. The Jerusalem Riders would bring her husband back, probably snivelling and crying, and lock him up in the Crusader jail, before the public trial which would see him hang. Oh, the shame of it!

Squeezing shut her eyes, she said a prayer. 'Oh, Lord, you know what trials I have been through with that wretched man. It is said that he was shot trying to escape. Let him die in the mountains. Let his body be devoured and never found.'

Maybe, after a few years, the memory of her mad husband would diminish in the eyes of the townsfolk. Or she could marry again.

A sudden noise downstairs caused her eyes to jerk open.

Someone was moving around the house. 'Dear G.o.d, don't let it be Josiah! Anything but that!' she whispered.

There was a small pistol in the bedside table. Else sat up. If she crept down and killed him she would become a hero, all her status restored. Opening the drawer, she pulled out the weapon. It seemed tiny in her fat fist. Flicking open the revolver's side gate, she checked that it was loaded; then, easing her vast bulk from the bed, she moved out to the doorway and the stairs beyond. The belt of her cavernous white flannel nightgown caught on the door handle. Shaking it loose, she stepped on to the first stair which creaked loudly.

'Is that you, Josiah, dear?' she called, as she moved down into the darkness. Then she caught a flicker of movement to the left. c.o.c.king the pistol, she stepped from the stairs.

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, silver light streaming through the window and the open door. A huge shape reared up before her.

Else Broome had time for one piercing scream . . .

It was heard by the Crusader Captain Leon Evans as he made his nightly rounds. The sound chilled him. A figure moved from the shadows and Leon spun, his gun flashing into his hand.

'It's only me, sir,' said Samuel McAdam, stepping out to join him. 'Did you hear it?'

'd.a.m.n right. It came from West Street.'

'You want me to come with you?'

Leon smiled and clapped the boy on the shoulder. 'You're not a Crusader yet, Sam. Wait until you get paid for it.' Holstering his pistol, he moved along the street. A silver shape ran at him from the shadows, but Leon was moving past the alleyway and failed to see it.

Samuel blinked. He couldn't believe his eyes. No Wolver could possibly be that big!

'Captain!' he shouted, at the same time dragging out his pistol. His first shot missed the beast. But Leon Evans swung, drew and fired in one smooth motion. Samuel saw the beast stagger, its head snapping back as blood sprayed from a cut to the scalp. Samuel fired again. Dust kicked up from the beast's hide, just above the hip, and blood pumped from the wound. Leon Evans stepped in close and triggered two shots into the Devourer's chest.

With a terrible howl it sank to its haunches.

Movement came from the far end of the street and screaming began in several of the houses to Samuel's right. High above a window smashed and a man's body hurtled down, smashing through the slanting wooden roof that protected the sidewalk. He landed head- first. Leon ran to the body, Samuel following. It was Ezra Feard, his chest ripped open.

People came running from their homes, converging at the centre of the main street. A huge beast climbed from Ezra Feard's window and leapt down among them. Samuel saw a woman dragged screaming to the ground. A man ran to her aid but talons ripped into his chest. Panic swept through the crowd and they began to run. From the far end of the street came a score more of the creatures, their howls echoing above the screams of the crowd.

'Get to the Crusader building!' yelled Leon Evans, trying to make himself heard above the sounds of terror that rent the night. Pistol in hand, Samuel forced his way through the crowd, trying to reach the law officer. The Crusader Captain was standing his ground with arm extended, coolly firing at the charging beasts. The hammer clicked down on an empty chamber, Leon Evans broke open the pistol and began to reload, but a beast bore down on him and leapt. Samuel was some yards back. He fired - and missed. Talons ripped into Leon Evans' cheek, tearing his face away. The Crusader Captain fell back, dropping his pistol. As the creature leapt again, the mortally wounded man drew a hunting-knife and lunged out, but the blade did not even pierce the hide. Talons tore into his body and he fell in a spray of blood. Samuel backed away, trembling, then turned and ran for his life.

Many people were crowding into the stone-built Crusader building, while others continued to run along the main street. As a horse came bolting from a side street Sam jumped at it, grabbing the mane, trying to vault to the animal's bare back. He missed and was dragged for some thirty yards before falling to the dust. Scrambling up, he gazed around him. A huge Wolver was running at him. When Samuel's hand swept down to his holster ... it was empty.

A shotgun blast came from the right and above. Hit full in the chest the creature staggered back, letting out a bellow of pain.

Samuel glanced up to see the youngster Wallace Nash leaning out of a window above him.

'Better get in here, Sam!' shouted Wallace. Samuel ran up the three short steps to the main door and swiftly moved inside. Out on the street the wounded beast bounded forward to hurl itself at the door, which broke into two pieces as it burst open. Samuel fled for the stairs, taking them two at a time, the beast just behind him. Wallace Nash appeared at the top. 'Drop, Sam!' shouted thp youngster.

Samuel threw himself down as the shotgun blasted, and he heard the body of the beast tumbling back behind him. Scrambling up, he joined the red-headed youngster at the top of the stairs. He did not know Wallace well, and remembered the boy was a sprinter who had once outrun Edric Scayse's racing horse, Rimfire.

'Thanks, Wallace,' he said, as the youngster thumbed two sh.e.l.ls into the double-barrelled gun.

'We got to get out of here,' said Wallace. This old bird gun ain't going to hold them, that's for d.a.m.n sure. Where's your pistol?' he asked, glancing down at the empty scabbard.

Samuel was embarra.s.sed. 'Dropped it out on the street. I panicked.' Wallace nodded, then reached into his belt to pull clear an old, single-action h.e.l.lborn pistol.

Fresh screaming erupted from the street and the two young men ran through to the upper front room and looked out of the window. A young woman carrying a baby was hammering on the door of the Crusader building, but the people inside were too frightened to let her in.

A beast loped towards her.

'Over here!' shouted Samuel. The woman spun, and Samuel could see her gauging the distance against the speed of the Wolver. She would never make it ...

But she tried.

Wallace levelled the shotgun and let fly with both barrels, taking the beast high in the shoulder and spinning it. Regaining its balance, it lurched after the woman. Samuel pushed open the window and climbed out. To the eternal regret of his mother, Beth, he had never been blessed with great courage or stamina. Samuel believed he had failed her in almost everything. Taking a deep breath he jumped, landing heavily and twisting his ankle. The woman was almost at the steps - the beast just behind her - as Samuel moved left and fired, his first bullet smashing into the creature's open mouth. His second took it in the throat and blood sprayed from the exit wound. Still it came on.

In that instant Samuel McAdam knew he was going to die, and an icy calm settled on him.

The woman ran by him without a glance, her baby screaming. Other beasts were gathering now. The first creature loomed above Samuel and he fired twice more, straight into the heart. The Wolver slumped - then its taloned hand slashed out.