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.The winged guardians swept up through the clouds toward the rafters miles above.It must be over, I thought.The books were balanced, the numbers aligned.Shattered and close to tears — but I wouldn’t cry yet, not yet — I began the long climb back down.The waiting room was the first place I checked after the records office.Ancientspeak music wafted across the white-walled space, a weird kind of bossa nova with soft-spoken lyrics that made no sense to me.Becky and Mum were together on a white two-seater sofa, watched over by a pair of armed, grim-faced Vigilants.Mum looked broken as she leaned against Becky, who was stroking her hair and whispering, “There, there.”“It’s ending,” I said.Mum didn’t hear me, but Becky looked up.“There’s still some activity in the conference room.Lu just got called away.”“I’d better go.”“Don’t,” she said quickly.“It’s under control.You did what you had to do.”“I’ll be fine,” I said.“I won’t be long.”“Please, Ben.don’t.”I couldn’t begin to tell her what I’d seen in the last few minutes.Whatever she was worried about in the conference room couldn’t be any worse than that.“I’m responsible for all this,” I said.“I mean all of it.I need to make amends if I still can.”Mum peered up at me then, just before I left the room.She didn’t seem the least bit aware of her surroundings.Her eyes were glazed and far away.“It’s OK,” I told her anyway.“Like Dad said, it’s going to be fine.”Then I turned away, heading out along the hallway.The fighting had stopped, but the aftermath was awful to see.Bodies littered the floor, Shifters and Vigilants alike.The walls were cracked and marked bloodily in several places.A scattering of gray-black ashes marked the spot where the Deathhead had fallen.A 11215 if ever I’d seen one.The conference room was hazy with smoke.It rose from the floor, from burned-out defenders and demons.As I moved inside, it was hard to see much of anything at all.The few figures still standing were like ghosts in the fog.The place had been ripped apart, chairs scattered, the great long table split into two.It looked like the end, but now I heard movement in the smoke — a roar and a muffled scream, the sound of a Mawbreed ingesting a man’s soul with one greedy gulp.It wasn’t over.The enemy were defeated, but they didn’t know when to stop.I moved deeper into the smoke, half expecting them to lunge at me left and right.The first clear sight I had of anything was a Vigilant cowering on the floor, gazing up in terror at the Mawbreed looming over him.I couldn’t make it stop.I tried to picture something to save him, but it wouldn’t come in time.The Mawbreed was fast, faster than a thing that size ought to be, and its drooling mouth covered the guard before I could blink.Back along the hallway, the telegraph woke again with a sound like a backfiring car.Here came another list of names to add to the last, but there wouldn’t be any record of the souls these demons were stealing.How many? I wondered.How many more?The smoke cleared just a little, forming a canopy under the ceiling, and I noticed another figure stretched out on the floor in front of me, dressed all in white, battered and burned.My heart slumped as I moved nearer and saw Lu kneeling over him.She was weeping and clutching his hand.She looked up as my shadow fell over him, then she looked back at Mr.October.A fireball, or something like one, had torn straight through him.There were dark scattershot marks around his midriff and chest and a great deal of blood.For a minute — it could’ve been longer — my mind shut down.I couldn’t think.Couldn’t feel a thing.I prayed for a dark hole to open up so I could roll inside it and vanish.“He’s breathing,” Lu said.“No!” I knelt down, facing her.“Is he really?”“I’m sure of it.”I let it sink in for a moment.Some relief.Still hope.“What happened?” I asked.She shook her head, uncertain.“He was like this when I got here.He rang, but too late.”Somewhere in the thick of the smoke, a Mawbreed growled.Another, finishing its meal, belched loudly.“Too slow,” Mr.October murmured.At the sound of his voice, Lu and I looked at each other, drawing the same short breath.“You’re alive,” I said.He tried to nod, but ended the movement wincing.“Too slow,” he repeated.“This body wasn’t meant for combat.It hit me before I had time to change.There’s a lesson in there somewhere, Ben.Never bring your mourning attire to a war zone.”His gray eyes held mine.His face muscles ticked as if he was trying to take on another appearance but hadn’t the strength.“Sometimes it’s all too much,” he said.It was the first thing I’d ever heard him say, a lifetime ago at Highgate Cemetery.Feeling through his pockets, I found a handkerchief and dabbed it around his damp face [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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