'Do you think it cares?' she said. 'Aren't we all fodder to a thing like that?'

In the face of her questions his pretence to indifference failed him; he began to run his tongue over his lips, top then bottom, over and over.

'You don't want to die, do you?' she said. 'At least, not like that.'

This time it was his glance that went to the body on the ground.

'It wouldn't dare,' he said. But he dropped his volume as he spoke, as though fearful it would hear him.

'Help me,' she said to him. 'Together we might be able to control it.'

'It's not possible,' he replied.

As he spoke the body in the warm mud between them burst into incandescent flames. This time there was nothing left for Uriel's fire to devour but muscle and bone; Hobart had been stripped as naked as a man could get. The skin burst, blood boiling up in a hundred places. Suzanna stepped back to avoid being caught by the rain of heat, and in doing so put herself within Shadwell's reach. He took hold of her, placing her body between him and the fire.

But the Scourge had already left Hobart, and had taken itself into the hill. The ground began to shake, the din of grinding rock and pulped earth rising from beneath them.

Whatever Uriel had gone underground to devise Suzanna wanted to run from it while there was time, but Shadwell still had hold of her, and much as she wished to let the menstruum strike him down he was the only ally she had left. He it was who'd woken the beast, and been its companion. If anyone knew its weaknesses, he was the man.

The roaring in the ground climbed to a crescendo, and with it, the whole hill tipped. She heard Shadwell cry out, then he fell, taking Suzanna with him. His hold probably saved her life, for as they rolled down the slope the ground at the summit of Rayment's Hill erupted.

Rock and frozen earth were carried skywards, then hailed down on their heads. She had no time to protect herself from its descent. She was still spitting snow from her mouth when something struck her on the back of the neck. She tried to keep hold of consciousness, but it slipped her, and she slid into the night behind her eyes.

2.

Shadwell was still beside her when she came round, his hold on her so fierce it had deadened her arm from elbow to fingertip. At first she thought the blow she'd sustained had affected her sight, but it was a fog that had closed off the world around them; a cold, clinging fog that seemed to encompass the entire hill. Through it Shadwell watched her, his eyes two slits in his filthied face.

'You're alive -' he said.

'How long have we been here?'

'A minute or two.'

'Where's the Scourge?' she asked him.

He shook his head. 'It's not reasoning any more,' he said. 'Hobart was right. It doesn't know where it is. You've got to help me -'

That's why you stayed.'

' - or else we'll neither of us get out of here alive.'

'So how?' she said.

He gave her a small, twitching smile.

'Placate it,' he said.

'Again: how?'

'Give it what it wants. Give it the magicians.'

She laughed in his face.

Try again,' she said.

'It's the only option. Once it's got them it'll be satisfied. It'll leave us alone.'

'I'm not going to give it anything.'

His grip strengthened. He crabbed his way through the muck to her side.

'It's going to find them anyway, sooner or later,' he said. He was on the verge of sobbing like a baby. There's no chance they can survive this. But we can. If we can just make the bastards show themselves. It won't want us once it's got them. It'll be satisfied.' His face was inches away; every tic and tear was hers to scrutinize. 'I know you hate me,' he said. 'I deserve it. So don't do it for me, do it for yourself. I can make it worth your while.'

She looked at him with something close to awe, that even now he could bargain.

'I've got stuff stashed away,' he said. 'A fortune. You name your price. It's all yours. Whatever you want. Free, gratis and - '

He stopped.

'Oh sweet Jesus,' he said.

Somewhere in the fog, something had begun to howl: a rising wail which he recognized and feared. He seemed to decide that it was no use hoping she'd aid him, for he let her go and rose to his feet. The fog was equally dense on every side; it took him several seconds to elect an escape route. But once he had, he was away at a stumbling run, as the howl -which could only be Uriel - shook the hill.

Suzanna stood up, the fog and her aching head making the surroundings swim. The ground was so churned it was impossible to tell where the slope of the hill lay, so she couldn't orient herself to get back to the wood. All she could do was run, as fast as possible, away from the howl, blood coursing down the back of her neck. Twice she fell; twice her body made contact with an earth that seemed ready to open up beneath her.

She was on the verge of collapse when a figure loomed from the fog ahead of her, calling her name. It was Hamel.

'I'm here - ' she yelled to him, over the din of the Scourge. He was with her in seconds, leading her over the treacherous ground and back towards the wood.

3.

Luck was on Shadwell's side. Once he was away from the hill itself the fog thinned and he realized that either by instinct or accident he'd chosen the best direction to run in. The road was not far from here; he'd be away down it before the Angel had finished on the hill; away to some safe place on the other side of the globe where he could lick his wounds and put this whole horror out of his head.

He chanced a look over his shoulder. His blessed flight had already put a good distance between himself and the scene of devastation. The only sign of the Angel was the fog; and that still clung to the hill. He was safe.

He slowed his pace as he came within sight of the hedgerow which bounded the road; all he had to do now was follow it until he came to a gate. The snow was still falling, but his sudden turn of speed had got him heated; sweat was running down his back and chest. Even as he unbuttoned his coat, however, he realized the warmth was not self-generated. The snow was turning to slush beneath his feet, as heat rose from the ground, and with it, a sudden spring, shoots bursting from the earth and rising like snakes towards his face. As they flowered he realized the depth of his error. They came with fire for sap, these blossoms, and at their hearts were Uriel's eyes, Uriel's countless eyes.

He could go neither forward nor back; they were all around him. To his horror he heard the Angel's voice in his head, as he had first heard it back in the Rub al Khali.

Do I dare? - it said, mocking his boast to Suzanna.

DO I DARE?.

And then it was upon him.

One moment he was only himself. A man; a history.

The next he was pressed to the lid of his creaking skull as the Angel of Eden claimed him.

His last act as a man with a body he could call his own was to shriek.