I transverse to where the golden apple hung. Every subatomic particle of it is gone.
He dodges the question. “Got any cigarettes on you, Marinus?”
A trickle of Dusk appears from the black doorway, like sand.
… as Marcus Anyder, you even killed your old self.
“Do you really want to spend your final moments interviewing me? What do you want? Some big dramatic mea culpa?”
“You’re not still angry about that, are you?”
—
The muttering of the Dusk is growing. I push the voices away.
Hugo Lamb dusts his sleeves. “You scansioned Holly, I presume?”
“Did you find us in La Fontaine Saint-Agnиs? Holly and I?”
I hesitate too long.
“So you had a good gawp. Well. Now you have your answer.” More Dusk spills in, promising us it won’t hurt, it won’t hurt, it won’t hurt. A third of the floor is covered now. “Did you see her lay into Constantin? Irish blood, Gravesend muscle. Talk about breeding.”
“Never been the have-a-go-hero type, me.”
“I’ve always had a problem with authority figures. Rivas-Godoy turned right when we entered the labyrinth, so that was him finished from the outset, but I followed Constantin. Yes, she recruited me, but she bought into the women-and-children-first doctrine bigtime. So I cloaked myself, got lost, heard Holly, followed you … And here we are. Death-buddies. Who would have thought it?” We watch the sandy Dusk fill the domed chamber, getting deeper. I’m nagged by a thought that I’ve missed something obvious. Hugo Lamb coughs. “Did she love me too, Marinus? I don’t mean after she found out about my little … dalliance with a paranormal cult that scarred her family and attempted to animacide her brother. I mean, that night. In Switzerland. When we were young. Properly young. When Holly and I were snowed in.”
Two-thirds of the floor is covered. Lamb the corporeal has sixty seconds of life before the Dusk reaches him. I can hover a little longer, until the dome is full to the roof, if I really want to.
Then it hits me, what I’ve missed. Hugo Lamb missed it too. Even Constantin missed it. Dodging falling masonry, trying to avoid the Dusk, we all forgot an alternative exit. I could sublaugh. Will it work? If the Dusk got into the Way of Stones and erased the conduit, no … But it was a long way down.
I subask Lamb,
“Not a lot. Why? Fancy a psychoduel?”
He’s confused. “To do what?”
October 26
AT THE FOOT OF THE STAIRS I hear this thought,