The Demon and the City - By Liz Williams Page 0,58

it's likely that it hasn't, since I don't suppose she wants to face the music down there with Tserai's masters. Then it's a question of offering the spirit some kind of deal in order for her to sell out Tserai." Chen paused and took a sip of tea.

"And then?" the demon prompted.

"Then we have to find some way of breaking into the Farm."

"The place is a fortress, Chen."

"Not to someone whom Tserai has already taken into her confidence."

"Perhaps, but she's hardly likely to take me back to the Farm. And if I ask her if I can go, she'll get suspicious."

"Then we'll have to think of something," Chen said. "I have an idea."

"Oh? What?"

"I need to mull it over a bit first. For the moment, I'm going to sort out a permit for the Night Harbor. And another thing, Zhu Irzh. Heaven must be informed. As soon as possible."

Twenty-Seven

"No!" Robin screamed. "I'd die for him, Deveth, I wouldn't die for you! I wouldn't die for you!"—and abruptly the attack stopped. Mhara curled whimpering on the ground, the Lion Gate stood silent and empty, and they were alone. Robin sat up and spat blood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She hardly dared to look at Mhara, and when she did she felt a piercing, icy shock. He was curled on the ground beside her, and he was not moving.

"Mhara?" she faltered. She put a hand to his face and his skin was cold beneath the blood. The beast's assault had ripped through the thin shirt and torn the flesh beneath into long parallel grooves; Mhara was covered in blood. A pulse fluttered in his throat. Robin stripped off her jacket and stuffed it against the worst of the wounds, but after a moment she could see the blood beginning to seep through, staining the material with a thin crust. She looked around. No one was to be seen. It was as quiet as midnight in the country. The fireworks had ceased, and it had grown suddenly cold. The four shining heads of the iron lions were furry with frost, and the rime along the steps gleamed. In the open mouth of the beast above her, the metal ball began to quiver, rocking against the lolling, bronze tongue. The dry noise that it made was the only sound. Then the ball fell, shattering on the hard ground into a thousand fragments.

Robin stared as light, golden and calm, spilled from the fragmented ball and surrounded Mhara's prone form. The ragged wounds began to knit together, forming seams in the skin that soon faded until there was no longer a trace of injury. Moments later, the light seeped away, seeming to sink into the earth itself, and Mhara sat up.

"What happened?"

"Something healed you. A ball, from the lion's mouth."

"It's an Imperial statue," Mhara whispered. "It must have recognized me."

"Mhara, we have to find a way out of here. Deveth's spirit is roaming around and it obviously doesn't wish you well. We have to get back to Earth, or—"

"Not Earth, Robin. I have to return to Heaven. I told you. Someone must tell them what's happening."

"But you said that they won't let you back into Heaven . . . Mhara, if you explained to them—no one could blame you for what you did."

"You think so? Heaven is merciful to human souls, but very hard on its own. We are supposed to know better. And there was—an earlier transgression on my part."

"What do you mean?"

"Tserai was only able to capture me because I was already on Earth, Robin. She did not summon me from Heaven. I should not have come here, I was denied permission, but I wanted—" Mhara stopped.

"Wanted what?"

"Wanted to see for myself. I don't think you understand how remote Heaven has become over the last century. As fewer and fewer people believe in it, so it withdraws itself. Celestials are starting to ask themselves why they bother with the affairs of the Human Realms, when they get so little thanks for it. If it wasn't for a bureaucracy that was set up aeons ago, to bring souls to Heaven and reward them for their efforts, then I am not even sure whether the Celestials would bother."

"But what would happen to all the souls?"

"They'd go to the only place that would have them. Hell is always hungry, Robin."

"But that isn't fair," Robin said, aware that she was sounding like a child.

"Heaven thinks that it is taking too long for your