'You may have all the ideas you like,' said Daniel, starting up again across the field. 'But what is of the greatest importance is that you understand that we have scores... hundreds of guardians - halfway houses - throughout the countries of the world. In every profession, in all governments, in dozens of universities and institutions everywhere... You will never know who is a member of the Halidon. And that is our threat, our ultimate protection.'
'You're saying that if I reveal what I know, you'll have me killed?'
'You and every member of your family. Wife, children, parents... in the absence of the formal structure, lovers, closest associates, every person who was or is an influence on your life. Your identity, even your memory, will be erased.'
'You can't know every person I talk to, every telephone call I make. Where I am every minute. No one can! I could mount an army; I could find you!'
'But you will not,' said Daniel quietly, in counterpoint to McAuliffs outburst. 'For the same reason others have not... Come. We are here.'
They were standing now on the edge of the field. Beyond was the tentacled foliage of the Cock Pit forest, in shadowed blackness.
Suddenly, startlingly, the air was filled with a penetrating sound of terrible resonance. It was a wailing, inhuman lament. The tone was low, breathless, enveloping everything and echoing everywhere. It was the sound of a giant woodwind, rising slowly, receding into a simple, obscure theme and swelling again to the plaintive cry of the higher melody.
It grew louder and louder, the echoes now picking up the bass tones and hurling them through the jungles, crashing them off the sides of the surrounding mountains until the earth seemed to vibrate.
And then it stopped, and McAuliff stood transfixed as he saw in the distance the outlines of figures walking slowly, purposefully, in measured cadence, across the fields in the chiaroscuro shadows of the early darkness. A few carried torches, the flames low.
At first there were only four or five, coming from the direction of the gate. Then there were some from the south bank of the black, shining lake; others from the north, emerging out of the darkness. Flat-bottomed boats could be seen crossing the surface of the water, each with a single torch.
Within minutes there were ten, then twenty, thirty... until McAuliff stopped counting. From everywhere. Dozens of slowly moving bodies swaying gently as they walked across the darkened fields.
They were converging towards the spot where Alex stood with Daniel.
The inhuman wailing began again. Louder - if possible - than before, and McAuliff found himself bringing his hands up to his ears; the vibrations in his head and throughout his body were causing pain - actual pain.
Daniel touched him on the shoulder; Alex whipped around as if he had been struck violently. For an instant he thought he had been, so severe were the agonizing sensations brought on by the deafening sound of the horrible lament.
'Come,' said Daniel gently. 'The hollydawn can injure you.'
McAuliff heard him accurately; he knew that. Daniel had pronounced the word: not 'halidon' but 'hollydawn.' As though the echoing, deafening sound had caused him to revert to a more primitive tongue.
Daniel walked rapidly ahead of Alex into what McAuliff thought was a wall of underbrush. Then the Halidonite suddenly began to descend into what appeared to be a trench dug out of the jungle. Alex ran to catch up, and nearly plummeted down a long, steep corridor of steps carved out of rock.
The strange staircase widened, flaring out more on both sides the deeper it went, until McAuliff could see that they had descended into a primitive amphitheater, the walls rising thirty or forty feet to the surface of the earth.
What was the staircase became an aisle, the curving rock on both sides forming rows of descending seats.
And suddenly the deafening, agonizing sound from above was no more. It had stopped. Everything was silent.
The amphitheater, carved out of some kind of quarry, blocked out all other sound.
McAuliff stood where he was and looked down at the single source of light: a low flame that illuminated the wall of rock at the centre rear of the amphitheater. In that wall was embedded a slab of dull yellow metal. And on that slab of metal was a withered corpse. In front of the corpse was a latticework of thin reeds made of the same yellow substance.
McAuliff needed to go no closer to realize what the