The fabric that separated them from the inner confines glowed yet again. The green light cast strange shadows that danced across the canvas. Four rounded, writhing things grew from small silhouettes into large brooding shapes.
Again Darkmount’s voice but not his words could be heard.
The four shapes moved, and as the thump of their footfalls faded Charlie touched Crumble on the shoulder, giving him the go-ahead. As quietly as possible, he split the partition. Charlie reached out and gave her friends a final grasping touch on their forearms before she slithered through the hole.
Her first impression of the tent now she was up close was its size; it could have passed for a circus big top. Her second was how dark it was. Only a few oil-burning lights and a paltry fire gave any illumination, all of which were on or around a small altar that lay in the tent’s centre. Darkmount, hood thrown back to reveal his sharp features, stood next to the altar gazing intently at the urn, a greedy look somewhere between hunger and adoration on his face.
Charlie, glad of the poor lighting and muddy camouflage, waited for Jensen and Crumble to join her. She then watched as each sneaked off in opposite directions. Riding on a wave of growing excitement and struggling to deal with the insistent tick of adrenalin rushing through her veins, she stood up to make her move.
‘What kind of inefficient killer forgets to check his handiwork?’ she said, the abruptness of her voice making Darkmount jump.
‘Charlie Keeper?’
‘Got it in one,’ she said, stepping into the small circle of light.
Darkmount quickly regained his composure. ‘I have more pressing matters to concern myself with than one idiotic girl foolishly dreaming about the return of her pendant. I’ll give you one chance to leave with your life and one only.’
‘That’s one more chance than I’m prepared to give you.’ Charlie paused. Having narrowed the distance between them she could clearly see that the Stoman had changed since they last met. There was something wrong with his face. Little patches of darkness moved across it like windswept clouds streaming through an otherwise clear sky. Charlie blinked as she noted little lights glimmering in the dark patches; it was as if Darkmount was beginning to take on similar qualities to that of his god. He was becoming a patchwork man of flesh and starry galaxies.
‘Looks like you’ve been spending too much time with your god, eh, Darkmount?’
The bishop reached up to touch his face. His fingers actually dipped into one of the black spots as though it was in itself a tiny window to another realm. ‘I’m becoming a true holy man, Charlie Keeper. My god is bestowing upon me the holiness of his heavens.’
‘Heavens, huh? I think you’d better prepare yourself to be disappointed.’
‘Infantile to the last, Charlie Keeper! Are you really unable to comprehend how powerful I have become? Would it help you understand the situation if instead of burying you beneath a mountain of stone I simply ripped your spine from your body?’
‘Enough with the talking, let’s get on with this.’
‘As you wish.’ Darkmount took a step towards her.
Charlie gave him a dry laugh. ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’
She raised one arm high and clicked her fingers.
At her command a pair of hands snaked out of the darkness and snatched the vessel off the altar.
Darkmount, glimpsing the theft out of the corner of his eye, whipped round, but before he could cry out or summon his Stonesong Charlie clicked her fingers again.
KRUUU-KKKACK!
Taking advantage of Darkmount’s distraction, Crumble cracked his oversized club against the bishop’s head. Darkmount flew through the air to land in a heap. His eyes rolled up, one arm twitched spasmodically and almost immediately a rasping snore oozed from his slack mouth.
‘Are we good?’ asked Charlie.
‘All good.’ Jensen grinned, stepping forward with the urn cradled in his arms.
Crumble joined him. ‘Great plan, Charlie, well done.’
‘Well done indeed, lass,’ said Jensen, genuine admiration shone from his eyes. ‘Quick, simple and very, very effective.’
‘If I’d known sneaky attacks worked so well I’d have started using them sooner,’ said Charlie, her jubilation mirroring Jensen’s. ‘Sneakiness and good teamwork is definitely the way forward.’
While the Treman and Stoman ripped Darkmount’s cloak into strips so they could bind him, Charlie went through his pockets.
‘Got it!’ Her grin grew wider as she held the pendant aloft. The clasp was broken, and for a moment she considered wrapping it round her wrist like a bracelet, but settled instead