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“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 infraspace, 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.
“True,” said the Collector. “And I think… I’d like a chance to be the man I used to be, one last time. Let’s do it.”
In the end, there was no need for any chalk circles, no chanting or invoking of spirits; the three old friends simply closed their eyes and concentrated, and a powerful presence filled the whole bar, beating on the air. There was a feeling of something caught on the edge, struggling to be free, to be finished. And after more than thirty years the three old friends stepped effortlessly back into their old roles, meshing like the parts of a powerful engine that had forgotten just how much it could do. Raw magic sparked and flared on the air around them, and the Babalon Working was up and ru
But almost immediately another presence forced its way into the bar, slamming through Merlin’s defences. A door appeared in a wall where there had never been a door before, a ragged hole in the brickwork like a mouth or a wound, and stretched out beyond it was a narrow corridor, impossibly long. It led off in a direction I couldn’t identify, which had nothing to do with left and right, up and down, that my mind couldn’t deal with or accept, except simply as Outside. And down that awful corridor, slowly but inexorably, a single figure came walking. It was too far off in that unacceptable distance to see clearly, but I knew who it was, who it had to be. Lilith knew what we were up to, and she was coming to stop us.
Merlin came forward to stand before the corridor, staring down it and blocking the way. He looked… smaller, diminished. He raised his dead grey hands, already spotted with decay, and traced vivid shapes on the air, living sigils that spat and shimmered with discharging energies. He forced old and potent Words out of his ruined mouth, summoning up ancient forces and terrible creatures with the authority of his terrible name, but nothing happened. The Princes of Hell were more afraid of Lilith than they were of him. Merlin tried to open up interspatial trapdoors under Lilith’s feet, to drop her into some other, dangerous dimension, that she’d have to fight her way back from…but Lilith just walked right over them, as though they weren’t there. And perhaps for her, they weren’t. She was Lilith, imprinted on the material world by an effort of her own will, and he was only a dead sorcerer. Step by step she drew nearer, smiling her awful smile, despite everything Merlin could do to stop her, or even slow her down. And, finally, she stepped out into the bar, and the corridor disappeared behind her, the wall just a wall again.
“Hello, Merlin,” she said. “What a fuss you made. Anyone would think you weren’t glad to see me. And after I went out of my way to find a nice present to bring you.” She held up her left hand, and showed him a dark necrotic mass of muscle tissue. He knew what it was immediately, and made a sound as though he’d been hit. Lilith laughed prettily. “Yes, it’s your long-lost heart, little sorcerer. That’s what I’ve been doing all these years, since I had to give up being a wife and a mother. I knew I had to find your heart before you did, because you were the only one who might have stood a chance against me. If only you’d been whole. Merlin Satanspawn, born to be the Antichrist, but you didn’t have the nerve. By the way, I spoke with your father recently, and he’s still really mad at you.”
“Give me my heart,” said Merlin.
“It was very well hidden,” said Lilith. “You wouldn’t believe when and where I finally found it.”
“What do you want from me?” said Merlin.
“That’s more like it,” said Lilith, smiling on Merlin like a teacher with a slow pupil. “You can have your heart back, Merlin. All you have to do is bow down to me, kneel at my feet, and vow on your unholy name to worship me all your days.”
Merlin laughed abruptly, a flat ugly sound, and Lilith reacted as though he’d spat in her face. “Kneel to you?” said Merlin, and his voice was full of amused contempt. “I only ever knelt to one person. And you’re not fit to polish his armour.”
Lilith’s left hand convulsed, crushing the decaying heart into crimson-and-purple pulp. Merlin cried out once and collapsed, the magic that had sustained him for centuries torn away in a moment. He curled up in a ball on the floor, withering and falling in on himself as the flesh fell away from his old bones. The fires in his eyes went out. Lilith took a bite out of the crushed heart and chewed thoughtfully.
“Tasty,” she said. “Now die, fool, and go to the place appointed for you. Your daddy’s waiting.”
Merlin twitched and shuddered for a few moments more, but finally lay still, little more than a desiccated mummy. But I would swear that just before the end, I heard him say Arthur? So maybe he escaped his fate, after all. I’d like to think so.
Lilith looked unhurriedly about the bar. While I was still thinking what to do to distract her, and keep her from realising what three old acquaintances of hers were up to, Alex produced a pump-action shotgun from behind the bar, and handed it over to Suzie.
“Do something with this, Suzie. Avenge my ancestor. He might have been a pain in the arse, but he was family. The magazine holds silver bullets rubbed with garlic, napalm incendiaries spiked with holy water, and buckshot made from the ground-up bones of saints. Something in that mix ought to upset her. I find it works very well for crowd control on nights when the trivia quiz gets out of hand.”
“Why, Alex,” said Suzie, training the shotgun on Lilith, “I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”
She fired the shotgun at Lilith again and again, working the pump action incredibly fast, emptying the whole magazine. And Lilith just stood there and took it, entirely unaffected. Suzie lowered the gun, and Lilith shook a finger at her admonishingly. She turned away to look at the three men working their magic, so wrapped up in what they were doing they hadn’t even noticed her arrival. Lilith studied them for a moment, her head cocked on one side.