gns.thegraveyardvultures-第8部分

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　time　to　time　and　the　thin；　bloodless　lips　were　pursed　as　he；　too；　delighted　in　this　encounter。
　　
　　Strangely；　Sabat　felt　no　sense　of　arousement；　he　rarely　did　on　the　astral　where　one　became　a　detached　spectator　to　the　actions　of　mortal　bodies。　Totally　invisible；　he　had　no　fear　of　being　detected　as　he　stepped　into　the　room。
　　
　　Miranda　and　her　lover　were　convulsing　wildly；　their　united　quivering　bodies　causing　the　frail　modern　bed　to　creak　alarmingly　and　the　lamp　to　vibrate　on　the　bedside　table。　Those　earlier　groans　and　gasps　had　escalated　to　cries　of　delight　and　then　Miranda　was　sinking　down　on　to　her　partner；　rubbing　her　breasts　across　his　hairy　torso　so　that　the　sharp　nipples　spiked　him。
　　
　　For　some　time　after　that　they　lay　still　and　Sabat　feared　that　they　had　fallen　asleep　and　might　remain　so　until　morning；　in　which　case　his　night　would　have　been　wasted　for　it　was　only　safe　to　remain　away　from　his　physical　body　for　a　few　hours　each　time。
　　
　　However；　after　perhaps　twenty　minutes　the　man　stirred；　used　his　strength　to　extricate　himself　from　the　sensual　embrace　of　his　partner。　Til　have　to　be　going；'　he　muttered。
　　
　　'Or　your　wife'll　be　getting　suspicious；'　there　was　a　hint　of　jealousy　in　Miranda's　reply。
　　
　　'I　have　work　to　do。'　The　other　groped　for　his　shirt　which　was　lying　close　by　on　the　floor。　The　others　are　getting　impatient。　We　haven't　met　for　over　a　month　now。　It　has　been　too　dangerous　and　now　that　they've　found　Sheila　Dowson's　body　there's　going　to　be　cops　snooping　round　the　village　for　weeks　to　e。'
　　
　　'But　we　didn't　kill　her。　She　just。　。　。　had　a　cerebral　attack　or　something。'
　　
　　'Cerebral　attack！'　he　laughed　mirthlessly；　the　shirt　being　pulled　over　his　head　hiding　the　expression　bordering　on　terror　in　his　eyes。　'No　cerebral　attack　can　pound　the　skull　like　。　。　。　like　an　animal's　kicked　it　in！　You　know　yourself　what　happened　that　night　and　what　it　did　to　Horace。'
　　
　　'I　wasn't　looking。'　Her　hitherto　flushed　features　had　gone　deathly　pale　now。　'I　kept　my　face　buried　in　the　grass　and　my　eyes　shut　tight　and　prayed　it　wouldn't　happen　to　me。　When　d'you　think　Horace　will　be　ing　out　of　the　nuthouse？'
　　
　　'Not　for　a　long　time。　If　ever。'　The　big　man　was　sitting　on　the　side　of　the　bed　now；　struggling　to　pull　his　trousers　on。　The　last　I　heard　he　thought　he　was　Prime　Minister　and　was　ordering　the　doctors　to　set　him　free；　accusing　them　of　having　brought　his　government　down　by　an　armed　coup。　I　guess　I'll　have　to　take　over　from　now　onwards。'
　　
　　'Why。。。　why　don't　we　just　forget　about　it　all；　Royston？'　Miranda's　voice　quavered。　'We　。　。　。　don't　have　to　meet　again　。。。　or　anything　。。。　do　we？'
　　
　　'Don't　be　a　stupid　little　bitch！'　His　features　contorted　and　she　flinched　as　though　he　might　hit　her。　'We've　gone　too　far　to　back　out；　there's　no　turning　back　once　you've　trodden　the　Left　Hand　Path；　you　should　know　that。　We　are　the　disciples　of　the　Master　and　if　we　attempt　to　desert　him　he　will　strike　us　down　in　the　same　way　the　Dowson　girl　was　struck　down。　But　now　we　have　the　ultimate　in　power；　the　bones　of　Gardiner　himself　who　was　one　of　the　most　powerful；　if　the　least　known；　of　all　black　magicians；　The　Master　will　look　after　us　if　we　serve　him　well；　never　fear。'
　　
　　'Well；　he　didn't　exactly　look　after　Horace。'　The　girl　was　trembling　violently。　'Or　。　。　。　or　Sheila　Dowson。'
　　
　　'He　works　in　his　own　mysterious　way。　Horace　achieved　what　Crowley　achieved　many　years　ago　except　that　Horace　lost　his　courage　at　the　crucial　moment；　he　would　have　gone　blabbing　to　the　police。　The　Master　knew　this　and　silenced　him。　Possibly　he　would　have　struck　him　dead　had　Horace　not　had　a　record　of　devotion　to　the　Left　Hand　Path。　That　was　an　example　of　the　Master's　forbearance　towards　a　disciple。　Now　it　is　up　to　us　to　carry　on　his　work。　The　most　difficult　part　is　acplished。'
　　
　　'We　daren't　use　the　churchyard　again。'　A　pleading　whine。
　　
　　'Obviously　not。。。　at　the　moment。　But　do　you　think　that　I　have　not　taken　steps　to　find　another　place　and　now　our　new　temple　is　ready。　Within　a　few　nights　we　shall　be　gathered　there　but　until　the　time　is　nigh　I　shall　not　make　our　destination　known。　It　is　too　dangerous。'
　　
　　'You　know　I　wouldn't　tell　anybody。'
　　
　　'I　trust　you　won't　for　should　I　even　suspect　that　you　have　talked　loosely　then　the　river　will　receive　its　second　corpse　within　a　matter　of　weeks！'
　　
　　Miranda　swallowed；　and　was　reminded　again　of　Sheila　Dowson's　fate。
　　
　　'But　there　is　an　enemy　in　our　midst；'　Royston's　voice　dropped　to　a　whisper　and　the　watching　Sabat　stiffened。　'I　have　seen　him　about　the　village　and　recognised　him　for　what　he　is；　a　black　vulture　who　avoids　contact　with　the　police　yet　is　sniffing　out　our　trail。　But　such　is　our　power　that　I　fear　him　not　and　he　will　be　destroyed。'
　　
　　Sabat　flinched；　debated　whether　or　not　to　return　immediately　to　his　physical　body　in　his　bedroom　at　the　'Dun　Cow'　for　that　was　his　Achilles　heel。　He　was　totally　helpless　there　should　they　discover　him　and　he　would　have　no　defence　against　an　attack。　Even　the　pentagram　would　be　unable　to　save　him　from　a　physical　assault　by　the　ungodly；　it　could　only　keep　evil　spirits　at　bay。　But　he　must　remain　here　a　short　while　longer；　try　to　find　out　where　the　coven　were　due　to　meet。　Maybe　he　should　follow　this　man　Royston　to　his　home。
　　
　　'We　are　on　the　verge　of　great　power；'　Royston　was　fully　dressed　now；　standing　over　the　naked　cowering　Miranda；　'because　we　have　done　what　many　half…hearted　covens　throughout　this　country　have　not　dared　to　do　。。。　we　gave　the　Master　a　dead　virgin　and　a　live　female　sacrifice。　He　accepted　both　and　he　will　reward　us　richly。　The　police　and　the　Church　are　powerless　to　stop　us。　We　are　his　chosen　ones；　do　not　forget　it。'
　　
　　Sabat　hesitated　as　the　big　man　hurried　downstairs。　Another　glance　at　Miranda　who　was　now　lying　full…length　on　the　bed　and　starting　to　sob；　trying　to　remember　where　he　had　seen　her　before。　On　the　astral；　memories　sometimes　came　more　easily；　unclouded　by　the　distractions　of　mortal　life。　A　dim　recollection　。。。　a　past　life　。。。　hazy　in　the　mists　of　endless　time。　Fleeting　snatches。　He　heard　the　enraged　cries　and　tauntings　of　a　mob；　smelled　choking　woodsmoke。
　　
　　And　at　that　moment　Sabat　knew　that　he　was　in　deadly　danger。
　　
　　He　abandoned　his　idea　of　following　Royston　and　fled　full　speed　from　the　house；　a　hunting　hawk　on　the　wing；　homeward　bound。　And　the　fear　within　him　was　mounting　for　the　stifling　smell　of　acrid　smoke　was　being　stronger　by　the　second！
　　
　　As　he　approached　the　'Dun　Cow'　he　saw　the　flames；　shooting　tongues　of　red　and　yellow　crackling　above　the　roof；　showering　sparks　high　into　the　sky　like　some　bizarre　firework　display。　It　seemed　to　draw　him；　a　fiery　whirlpool　sucking　him　down　into　its　blazing　inferno；　a　bird　with　folded　wings　plummeting。
　　
　　Dimly　he　was　aware　of　waking；　gasping　for　breath；　almost　choking　as　he　rolled　naked　out　of　bed　and　caught　the　chalice　with　his　foot；　sending　the　holy　water　gushing　across　the　bare　boards。　Somewhere　somebody　was　screaming。　Sabat　crossed　the　room；　unlocked　the　door　but　even　as　he　flung　it　open　the　heat　had　him　recoiling。　The　entire　landing　was　ablaze；　the　stairway　already　disintegrating　into　crumbling　fiery　struts。
　　
　　Sabat　closed　the　door；　leaned　back　against　it　and　tried　to　recollect　his　thoughts。　He　wasn't　going　to　panic；　that　was　why　household　fires　claimed　so　many　victims。　They　were　responsible；　of　course；　the　man　called　Royston　and　his　devilish　followers　of　the　Left　Hand　Path。　They　had　been　one　move　ahead　of　him；　spotted　him　from　the　outset　and　were　determined　to　eliminate　him　as　quickly　as　possible。　Death　that　would　be　worse　than　death　because　Quentin　would　trap　his　soul　in　the　dark　void　of　Hades　for　eternity。　The　flames　were　just　the　beginning；　physical　death。
　　
　　Sabat　did　not　pray；　neither　did　he　curse。　Just　a　vow　of　vengeance　and　a　promise　to　himself　that　somehow　he　would　e　out　of　this　alive。　At　least　he　had　returned　to　his　body　in　time　。　。　。　but　only　just！
　　
　　The　flames　were　already　licking　at　the　door；　forcing　him　back　into　action。　A　few　moments　spent　in　dressing；　not　because　he　needed　his　clothes　but　because　there　were　certain　items　which　he　could　not　leave　behind。　He　stuffed　the　chalice　into　a　jacket　pocket　along　with　the　small　crucifix　and　those　vital　herbs；　felt　the　forting　weight　of　the　。38。　The　latter　might　be　handy　if　there　was　to　be　physical　contact　with　the　members　of　the　coven。　Given　the　opportunity　he　would　put　a　bullet　in　Royston's　brain。
　　
　　He　crossed　the　room　and　stared　down　from　the　window。　
　　
　　A　crowd　had　gathered　in　the　car…park；　many　with　dressing　gowns　and　coats　thrown　hastily　over　night　attire；　horror…stricken　faces　staring　up　at　him。　More　people　were　arriving；　villagers　rushing　to　the　scene　determined　not　to　miss　this　ghastly　spectacle；　a　highlight　in　their　sober　conventional　lives。　A　small　minority　hoped　secretly　to　witness　a　horrible　death；　see　a　fellow　human　with　the　flesh　on　his　body　burning；　melting　the　fat　like　beef　dripping。
　　
　　A　fiery　avalanche　as　some　rafters　collapsed　and　showered　burning　debris　in　front　of　the　window。　The　watchers　moved　back。　Then　came　a　flashing　blue　light；　eerie　as　it　was　reflected　on　the　leaping　yellow　and　orange；　a　banshee…like　wailing　and　a　scarlet　metallic　monster　was　easing　its　way　on　to　the　car…park'。　The　fire　brigade　had　arrived　but　Sabat　knew　they　were　too　late　to　reach　him。　The　verandah　below　his　window　was　a　mass　of　shooting　flames　and　there　was　no　way　the　firemen　were　going　to　put　a　ladder　across　it。
　　
　　He　turned　back　from　the　window　and　thought　for　a　moment　that　this　really　was　the　end；　there　was　a　roaring　in　his　ears　and　he　thought　he　could　hear　Quentin　laughing。　There's　no　way　out　for　you　this　time；　Mark！
　　
　　Suddenly　Sabat　had　a　brief　sensation　of　sea…sickness；　that　fleeting　moment　which　inexperienced　sailors　experience　when　a　ship　lurches　with　the　current；　a　giddiness　that　has　your　stomach　rolling　as　you　grab　the　nearest　obstacle　because　if　you　don't　you　fall。
　　
　　Sabat　grabbed　the　bed；　felt　it　beginning　to　move；　sliding　away　from　him。　But　that　was　impossible　。。。　a　splintering　of　timber　and　then　the　bed　was　tipping　up；　one　corner　wedged　firmly　in　a　hole　where　the　floorboards　had　collapsed。　He　rubbed　his　smarting　eyes；　saw　a　jagged　gap　about　a　foot　square　that　went　right　down　to　the　room　below　…　the　lounge　bar！　Ancient　wooden　beams　and　floorboards　had　cracked　under　the　strain　as　the　upper…storey　contracted　with　the　intense　heat。
　　
　　Sabat　saw　a　chance；　a　slim　one；　but　he　had　been　handed　a　slender　lifeline　and　did　not　hesitate。　He　got　his　back　to　the　wall；　both　feet　securely　wedged　on　the　tilted　headboard　of　the　old…fashioned　bed；　and　exerted　every　ounce　of　his　waning　strength。　Sweat　ran　down　his　face　in　rivulets；　bining　with　the　smoke　to　sting　his　eyes　so　that　he　could　not　see。　For　a　few　seconds　nothing　happened　and　then　with　a　rending　crash　the　front　of　the　bed　bulldozed　its　way　through　the　woodworm…riddled　fire…weakened　boards。　Sabat　lost　his　footing；　sprawled　headlong　and　when　he　opened　his　eyes　found　himself　staring　down　into　the　room　below。
　　
　　The　fire　was　restricted　at　the