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‘I know that but I am not afraid.  I still
have little memory of my life on Heled.  If my journey awakens that memory I
will not complain.’

‘You will, you will,’ and Jake suspected that
she was right.  However, he had no choice.  This was his destiny.  He had to
confront the future at its appointed time.  Nothing anyone could do would
prevent that.

Lilith seemed to be considering something
and then she spoke again.

‘All right.  Only you can confront your
fears but I can, at least give you a way to pass the Angels of Destruction who
guard the exit from that land.  All you have to do is say these words; “I come
at the command of Lilith.”  Say nothing more and you will be allowed to enter
Sheol.

‘To Abaddon; I can send you direct from
here.  The way is easy.  The souls there are lost, they have no home nor any
future.  There is nothing for them.  You must beware befriending any of these
for they are without hope and will wish you to increase their ranks.  Just pass
through their land until you come to the Pit of Emptiness.  Do not even speak
to those inhabitants for directions for that will give them hope and that is
something that is forbidden by divine decree.’

‘Then how shall I find the Pit of
Emptiness?’

‘You will find it.  Just pass through
Abaddon until you arrive at the Pit.  You must descend into the Pit and there
you will find the crystal.’

‘That sounds simple.’

‘Simple, oh no; but you will learn that
for yourself.  When you want me, call my name and I will come.’

‘Thank you, Lilith.’

‘Now go, before I change my mind.’

There was another flourish of the old
woman’s arm and they were outside in the deserted world of the Arka.  Of the
city there was no sign but ahead was a strange shimmer, as if the world was no
longer solid.

‘Oh, Jake, hold me.’

He took the girl in his arms and smothered
her with kisses.

‘Do you feel up to it?’

‘I don’t know, but my finger tingles. 
It’s like the ring was giving me strength.’

‘It is.  We are one, you and I.  We were
destined to be together of that there can be no doubt.  Together we will enter
Abaddon and then Sheol.  Together we will face our fears and we will take the
stones.  But there are two more.  One is in the Adamah and the last in Eretz
but that world links directly to Heaven.  I somehow feel that a journey to
Heaven will be even worse than our trek to Hell.  Still, that is our task.  It
is our destiny to make that journey and I for one intend to proceed.’

‘I know, and I will be there for you.  I
love you, Jake.  I will be with you always.’

And, as they prepared to enter Abaddon,
they kissed with all the passion they felt.  Now they had two crystals in their
possession.  Their strength was doubled.  They were ready.

Fiona hardly had a rational thought in her
head as she ran from the house.  All she knew was that she had to get away. 
She could face no more of this madness.  She wanted it over.

Somehow she had picked up the car keys
(she did not even remember doing that) and she started the engine of her
motor.  The car was hers; hers alone.  Paid for with her own money.  It was
like her own little fortress with the doors shut and locked.  No one could
enter without her express permission.  Then, on instinct alone, she drove.

It was already dusk when she joined the M1
at Fiveways Corner and then she put down her foot firmly on the gas; as hard as
she could, as if she wanted to push the pedal right through the floor.

With quite reckless abandon she had
ignored the speed traps and had driven northwards.  All she wanted to do was
drive.

And then she heard the siren and saw where
she was.

All pretence that she might possess the
ability to think logically deserted her as her only notion was now how best she
could outrun the pursuing police.  She did not for one moment consider that
even her souped-up engine was hardly likely to be of any assistance against the
powerful vehicle on her tail.  All she saw was that there was a junction ahead;
North Watford and the M25; and, in her mind’s eye, Fiona saw exactly what she
was going to do.

Adrenalin flowed.

The police car was rapidly gaining; escape
was impossible.

And Fiona reacted.

The junction approached.  The first marker
immediately before her.

Two hundred yards.

One hundred.

And, at the last moment, she swung the
wheel.

The tires screeched, rubber melted...

...and she was across the chevrons and
onto the slip road.

A squeal, as the police halted.

She was free.  It had given Fiona the time
she required.

She hardly slowed as she left the first
motorway and sped up on the route to join the second and then she was off
again.  She had given them the slip; or had she?

There it was again; the siren.

Instinctively, Fiona dropped gear to
fourth and hit the gas.  There was a surge of power but the gain was almost
pointless.  There ahead was a largish and slow-moving lorry.  It completely
blocked her part of the carriageway.

Damn.

Still running on automatic Fiona swerved
to the neighbouring lane without checking to pass the obstacle and she realised
what she had done.  The repeated honking brought the unwelcome return of
sanity.

The other car was there right behind,
gaining much too fast.  She had driven right into its path.

He was going to hit her; impact was
inevitable.

There was nothing she could do.

And then the miracle occurred.  The other
driver applied his brakes and swerved.  Thank God the road was clear.

Fiona felt cold, very cold.  She had to
stop the car.  She managed to pull over but she could do nothing else.  Her
mind was empty.  She had survived.

And now the police.

But when they arrived she looked at them
blankly.  She wanted to go to sleep.

The men were talking; she could hardly
hear.  Words like, ‘Shock; crazy; drinking;’ but none of it registered.  It was
just meaningless sound.

The En Sof.  It had done this to her.  It
was here.

Fiona screamed.

But that was the catharsis she needed.

‘Better, love?’

‘Help me.  Please.’

‘Who are you?  What’s yer name?’

‘Fi...Fiona.’

‘Fiona what?’

She shook her head.  These men were
policemen.  They would help her.  They would protect her.  It was their job. 
She had to pull herself together.  Tell them what they wanted to know.

‘Tranton.  Fiona Tranton.’

‘Where d’yer live?’

‘No!’

‘Calm down.  It’s all right.  You’re safe
now.’

‘Safe?’

‘Yes.  So, you don’t want to go home?  All
right.  Is there someone else?’

‘Someone else?’

‘Yes.  A friend.  Someone.’

Who was there?  Whom could she trust?  And
then an image came to mind.  A baby’s smile.  The chuckling face of a little
child.  Emmett, Diana’s new baby.

‘My sister, Diana.’

‘That’s better.  Where does she live?’

God.  Why could she not remember?  It was
all such a struggle.

She shook her head.

‘All right.  Don’t worry.  How do you
feel?’

‘Strange, cold, tired.’

‘It’s shock.  I’ll get you an ambulance.’

‘No, please.  I’ll be all right.’

‘You don’t look it.  You’re as white as a
sheet.  Like you saw a ghost or something.’

The En Sof.  That thing again.  It wanted
her.  She knew it did.  God, she did need help.  She had to see Diana.  Diana;
she had to focus on Diana.

The memories returned.

‘She lives in Hounslow.  I know the
address.’

She told them.

‘Listen, love.  I’ve got to ask.  ’Ave you
been drinking?’

‘No.’

He produced the dreaded box.

‘Would yer take…?’

She knew what she had to do.  To her cost
she had done this before.  The test, this time, was negative.

The other constable who had been
whispering into his radio tapped his fellow and shook his head.

‘All right, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. 
I’ll drive you to your sister’s.  Bill here’ll follow in our car.  How’s that
sound?’

It was the best thing Fiona had heard all
day.  Thank God for the British bobby.  She would see Diana and baby Emmett of
course.  Little Emmett.  Happy little Emmett.  Not even eight months old.  So
good; so sweet; so innocent.  And a desperate thought came to her.  Emmett’s
very innocence could protect her from the supreme evil that wanted her.

‘Yes please.  I don’t know how to ever
thank you.’

‘Don’t worry about it, love.  Whatever’s
troubling yer, let’s just hope you can forget about it.’

………………………………………

Fiona spent the journey to Hounslow
quietly.  She was grateful that the police officer did not pry.  All she wanted
to do was to forget about her nightmare.  She knew it had been her own fault. 
If she had never become involved with Mitch none of this would have happened. 
But no.  She had been used; even Mitch had been used; by Lapski.  It was little
consolation to know that even if they had not been his tools Lapski would have
found another way to get at Jake.

She had made it easy.  She had betrayed
Jake.  She had provided the means to control his thoughts when she had given
Mitch the cuff-links.  Why did she go along with it?  She could have refused.

But, and she knew this was the truth, at
first, she believed none of it.  How could she?  She thought Mitch and Lapski
were playing some elaborate practical joke.  How could she have known of the
dark forces that she was helping to unleash?  By the time she had seen how they
were affecting Jake it was too late.  She was committed and, more to the point,
she was in love with Mitch.

 Now she was running away.  What good
would that do?  Had Mitch just been using her?  It was something over which she
had been agonising since the day he and Jake disappeared.  No, she did not
believe so.  Both of them, both men for whom she had feelings, had been taken
from her...and it was all her fault.

She fought to hold back the tears.  It was
a losing battle.

‘C’mmon, love.  We’ll be there shortly.’

‘I’m sorry.  I’m so, so, sorry.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

She shook her head.  They would never
believe her.  Why should they?  Nothing she had seen could be explained by
anything they could understand.

………………………………………

And then, at last, they reached Diana’s
home.

The constable rang the doorbell and
waited.  It was not yet eleven.  Brian and Diana would probably just be going
to bed and then there was Emmett.  Damn.  She should have told the constable to
knock.  They’d wake the baby up.

The door opened a fraction and a
suspicious Brian Hutchett peered round.  As soon as he saw his sister-in-law he
opened all the way.

‘My God, Fiona.  What’s happened to you?’

‘Mrs Tranton’s had a little accident.  May
we come in?’

Brian led the way.

‘I’ll bring Diana down.  She was just
going to bed’

As soon as her younger sister appeared
Fiona ran over to cling to her tightly.  Together, she knew, they looked almost
like twins.  The same Nordic colouring.

‘Will yer be okay, now?’

Fiona nodded.  She wanted to tell the
constable how kind he had been but she could not find the words.  Instead she
waited for Brian to show the friendly young constable out.

‘Oh, Di.  You don’t know how good it is to
see you.’

‘Come on, Fee.  What’ve you been up to? 
You don’t call me for weeks.  Jake told me you left him for someone else. 
Mitch, or something, wasn’t it?’

Fiona shook her head and tried to smile. 
She took a deep breath and tried again.

‘You don’t know the half of it.’

‘Try me.’

Fiona felt the tears coming again.

‘You are in a bad way.  Bri, darling.  Be
an angel and make us some coffees.  Plenty of sugar for Fee, okay?  And then, a
sweet sherry, I think.’

‘Thanks, Di.’

They soon sat down with the drinks and,
once Brian had been sent on his way, began to natter as only sisters could.

‘God, Fee.  That’s awful.  How terrible
for you?  You poor old thing.’

‘I didn’t know who else to turn to.  So
you believe me?’

‘Of course, I do.’

‘You mean it?’

‘Oh, come on, Fee.  I said I did, didn’t
I?  Look, I know what’ll cheer you up.  Come and see Emmett.  He’ll be ready
for his feed any time now.’

‘But isn’t he old enough to sleep through
the night?’

‘Yes, but he still gets hungry about now.’

‘So, when’s he starting on solid foods?’

‘Oh, he already is.  I’ve been weaning him
for a couple of months but he still prefers what I’ve got to offer,’ she indicated
her swollen breast, ‘Typical of a man isn’t it?’

Fiona laughed and they went upstairs.

Fiona felt happy for the first time in
ages.  She was going to see Emmett.  The thought of her nephew was enough to
chase all her miseries away.  She envied her sister; oh so much.  If only Jake
had understood her need then none of this nightmare would ever have happened. 
All it needed was for her to be pregnant and she had aborted the foetus.  Oh,
what a fool she had been.

And then, there he was, in his cot.  Such
a darling little boy, such a beautiful baby.  He seemed so peaceful as he lay
there on his back, so quiet, so innocent.

‘That’s strange.  I expected him to be
awake.  Come on.  If he’s sleeping it’s best to leave him like that.’

But, at that moment, his eyes snapped open
and he looked at the sisters in a way that Fiona could only call disconcerting;
almost as if something else were looking out through his eyes.  She shook her
head and saw that it had been her imagination.  What was she thinking of?  She was
being ridiculous.  Emmett was a baby.  He could not even speak.  Here she was
seeing things that were quite impossible.  She was becoming paranoid.

‘Please, may I hold him?’

‘Of course, go on, enjoy yourself.’

As Diana lowered the cot side Fiona reached
in and lifted up the child.  It felt wonderful to hold him.  He was so easily
the son she would have wanted.

Diana had dropped the cup of her bra and
had made herself comfortable on the nursing chair.  She held out her arms and
Fiona passed to her the little bundle.

It was with such longing, envy even, that
she watched as Emmett’s lips fastened on to Diana’s nipple, the whole areola
deep within his mouth to gain the full advantage of his night-time feed.  How
beautiful it was; the most natural thing in the whole world...and then Fiona
noticed something.

There was a trickle of something red
dribbling from the corner of Emmett’s mouth.  Blood.

‘Hey, Di.  Emmett’s bleeding.’

‘What?’

‘Pull him away.  There’s blood coming from
his mouth.’

And Diana smiled, or rather she grinned,
and for an instant she seemed to be the ugliest demon imaginable.  She
manoeuvred the baby and began to pull it away.

‘What’s wrong?  Have you never seen a
mother feeding its young before?’

Why did it sound like a threat?

And then Fiona saw it.  Emmett’s face was
plastered in blood.  It was smeared over his lips, dribbling down his chin and
splashed onto his sleep-suit.

But that was the least of the horror.  It
was not from Emmett that the blood had come.  No, this came from Diana.  It was
her breast.  Where the nipple should have been was torn and ragged flesh from
which gushed the crimson liquid.  Emmett had bitten it clean away.

But that was impossible; it had to be.

And then Emmett smiled and Fiona saw the
unbelievable truth.  It was his mouth; his innocent little mouth; it was full
of the most vicious shark-like teeth imaginable.  They were as sharp as razors
and were entirely coated in his mother’s life-blood.

How could it be?

And, with the end of reason, Fiona
screamed.