TEN

St Paul’s, Southwark, and the Tower of London
Saturday, 10^th May 1941

Jack and Noah (shadowed by Weyland and Grace) danced about the perimeter of the labyrinth, their movements slow, fluid, seductive, their eyes not leaving the other. As she danced, Noah (and, in turn, her daughter, Grace) allowed single columbines to flutter downwards from the sprays they each carried.

They marked the external perimeter of the labyrinth, the head of each spray of flowers turning so that it faced towards the dark heart in the centre of the labyrinth.

In St Paul’s, a seething blackness arose from the labyrinth which showed glimpses of something red and twisting in its heart.

At Southwark, as Grace and Weyland danced about the perimeter of the labyrinth, the waters opened over the crypt of St Thomas’, twisting downwards in a motionless vortex.

In St Paul’s crypt Catling rose to her feet, her face ashen, her eyes glittering between incredulity and anger.

“How?” she whispered as she saw before her a vision of the labyrinth rising under the Thames. Catling had expected many, many treacheries from Jack and Noah, but not this.

Not a new Game.

High above Catling, under the dome of the cathedral, and at Southwark, over the buried crypt of St Thomas’, the flowers which the Mistresses had scattered about the perimeter of the labyrinths now slowly started to slide towards the entrances of each labyrinth.

Each pair of dancers now moved towards the entrance of their respective labyrinth also, their movements still seductive and measured, their eyes still on those of their partner.

As they came to within ten paces of each entrance, the flowers slowly began to rise, weaving themselves into a gate.

“Grace? Grace?” said Catling. “What is this you do?”

Catling had finally, devastatingly, realised what was happening—there was another Game…how? How?—and all she could think of was Grace. Not what Jack and Noah might be doing, but what Grace was doing.

Dancing the closure, damn it, of a new Game, one meant to trap Catling.

“You think to trap me?” Catling said, her voice stronger now. “You really think you can do that?”

Then, in her next heartbeat, Catling knew they could, for the Shadow Game sent forth the first of its irresistible, deadly siren calls, twisting its hooks into Catling’s soul.

Tugging gently for the moment, but Catling knew all too well how soon those gentle tugs would turn into an agonising wrenching.

And all Catling could think of was Grace. Grace was dancing this Game.

“Don’t you know what I can do to you?” Catling said, and she raised her hands, the deadly tangle of red wool between them.

As the two Flower Gates began to rise, Ariadne and Silvius finally moved. In their minds’ eye they could see Grace as she danced with Weyland, and they concentrated on her with all their power. At the same time they began to dance. Although the rhythm of their movements were similar to those of the other four dancers, the dance they executed was strikingly dissimilar. They did not dance about a gigantic labyrinth, but instead executed a tight dance directly over the God Well, their hands constantly touching as they wove back and forth, and in and out, as if they were acting out the weaving of a gigantic basket.

In St Paul’s Noah caught Jack’s eyes.

When, Jack? When? How much further should they allow their Flower Gate to grow? How much longer should they give Ariadne and Silvius to build the devising Noah had taught them?

Soon, he whispered back into her mind. Very soon.

She knows, Jack. Catling knows. I can feel her seething.

Jack did not reply to that. Aye, Catling knew. He could feel her anger as Noah could, coiling under his feet and through every fibre of his being.

He could also feel the direction of that anger. Not at him, or Noah, but exclusively towards Grace.

Every instinct screamed at him to move now, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to wait, wait until they were all ready, until they were all attuned, until they were all at the peak of their dances.

He had to wait until Ariadne and Silvius were ready, and that would not be for a minute or two yet.

Meanwhile, the two Flower Gates continued to build, the Shadow Game increased its pull on Catling, and Catling…

All Catling seemed to be doing was channelling every ounce of malevolence she had towards Grace.

Jack hung on for as long as he could. Then, finally, he sent his senses scrying for Ariadne and Silvius, to make sure they were ready, then he looked at Noah, and with both mind and physical voice, said to her, “Stop!”

Several things happened at once.