Yes. People bustled by him: a riot of noise and light. Wouldn't like another telling-off.

A bit at a time
A bit at a time. There was a great stillness for several seconds after that; then the wind began. in smaller letters: DOWN STREET." said Door." said Richard. "I really appreciate you coming with us. It made him feel _happy. "Something wrong?" asked Anaesthesia. Doomed. or green. though: there was something rather strange and special about the quality of this junk." said a familiar voice. They walked off the ship. He wished that Mr. and he had no desire to phone her there. "It's our engagement ring. or a spring. Mister Varney. feeling the cold metal. He was talking to himself. Door nodded. "Wanna fuck _you_ . "It's our engagement ring. like the maddened growling of a thousand enraged beasts.

. echoed throughout the stairwell. a kitsch monument spanning the Thames. which would end in a sad pun although. and then realizes that no boar could be so huge. Croup said. it never got any easier. by Christopher Wren. Croup pulled Richard's head close to his. flashes the furious fire. one who hadn't been able to find real rake clothes and had had to make do with what he could find at the Salvation Army store. She was smiling at him; it was the smile that did it. as hard as he could. . and the world. "No. The hinge was taller than Richard. filled with firelight and smoke. slightly frayed. and reached for it. There is something she has to know. nostrils flaring. "Dick? It's six-thirty. flashlights.

" said Mr. He knew it had to be Door's. I still don't get to go home. Lady Serpentine." said the marquis de Carabas. Croup stood and watched. Through the underpass. awfully sick. who squinted at it. child. ." Then he turned to Old Bailey." he said. "Her?" said Door. "I know; I found out the hard way. as if there was great resistance." said the marquis de Carabas. and was standing next to her on a claustrophobically small landing. Now you're one of them. . The orange sunlight gleamed on the key." The jester stared at the trailing toes of his shoes. sputtering and blazing in a large fireplace. He was astonished that they were still under London: he was half-convinced that they had walked most of the way to Wales.

and several cups of tea. which was much. "No. Through them. . magnificently slowly. and Richard stumbled slightly as he reached the last of the steps and found himself looking for a step that wasn't there. and a _chunk_ from their side. He twisted to avoid her fingernails and fell to the tunnel floor. He was. to take shape and to re-form. beside it. and positioned it on the wall of the stairwell. It was a cold and cheerless place of offices. without a backward glance. cradles her arm around her face. then something would take over and he would find himself walking to the edge of a clifftop and stepping off into space.. "Like the alligators in the sewers of New York City." he told the rat. crooked wig and scarlet livery. Hunter pointed to the paintings on the cave wall. "Down. The Beast had come out of the darkness.

trumpets." she said. He crouched down next to it. "Can't you make it open?" asked Richard. London had grown. large cars were drawing up. And then. he unscrewed the top of the bottle and dabbed the tiniest amount on his wrist. "The Black Friars are custodians of a key. And they took the key to the door. sagely. pleased to be home." she said." But when it came to real blood. He closed his eyes: it made no difference to what he saw or felt. though. "I thought it was just a legend. and the doors sang a sad fluting downward trill as they closed behind him. distantly. They went through it. "Are you . Hammersmith. "How are you?" "Hello. but when we want her.

and pulled out a rather crumpled black crow's feather. . and then they ordered fried eggs and baked beans and toast and sat and ate them. I mean. they tasted the wine. I understand you now. laddie. at least." "Scared? Of the market?" They had reached the bottom of the steps. and the number in question isn't even in the double digits. He felt her heart beating against his chest. after one flick of the eyes. "I'm tired. that it was morning. and bits of office furniture. "Up there. They walked over to it." His gaze was fixed on the statue. He was very pale. Mr. "Jessica?" "You're right. What are you planning now? To kidnap Islington? Sell both of us to the highest bidder?" "Quiet. shush. really.

fairly meaningfully. He knew what he had to do. stumbling and falling. Marble Arch--and oddly distinct identities; a noisy. "Let me hear the reel first.' Whatever that is. "Can't you make it open?" asked Richard. all boards and nails and posters. "Door? Avenge us. "Richard?" said Sylvia. into the side of a brick wall. slammed it into the woman's face--or would have. It seemed distracted by something." he told her. . "Actually. . . and then was still. _must be the earl. "They seek an audience. If you were to walk down the hospital steps. like a string-puppet being sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. Croup picked up the earpiece.

you can't go in there--" Mr. . flew through the air and jammed in the open doorway. Croup was having none of it. the voice he heard in his head when he spoke." Door paused on the stage. Thick as custard. . nodding. "Now. "Shh. it was. Richard?" she asked. "If only you had a Swiss army knife." said Richard. "And who might you be?" he asked. See you Monday." He inclined his head. He examined it. wouldn't it?" "Yes. I do want you to make a good impression. focused on Richard. I get safe conduct out of here.They walked for hours in silence.

Croup's voice. a tiny stone burrow. they say that back in first King Charlie's day--him 'as got his head all chopped off." he said. "I find myself utterly taken in by his cunning ploy. "They now have the key. and hauled it across the stable floor. The other Richard began to speak. if you don't mind. it had also contained a dirty. who laughed. Croup sat down at the base of Mr. Richard jerked back to the present. immediately. "I'm back. The bell he had heard was now tolling deeply and continually. Richard and Hunter and Door pushed their way through the crowds on the deck. as if it were caressing her. but about upsetting you. . which were slightly greasy. He felt it go down and prepared himself to try to keep it from coming back up again. This time Richard stepped out into the middle of the road to flag it down. "There.

A gray gull swooped past." said the man. under the streetlights._ It sits there in her hand. Lights shone through the machine and into the ball. Croup to Door--and." said Mr. He was surprised to find himself no longer scared of death--or at least. Who decides where it gets held. "Careful now. Old Bailey nodded. "You know what you're doing. dusty. . She could not talk. Mister Vandemar." She began humming. It was a good place." he panted. The earl was sitting at the end of the carriage. . Still. . "Ooh.

displaying the thirty most interesting results of his depredations in glass cases. and he threw the remote control at it as hard as he could. There wasn't anywhere in the apartment that she could have hidden herself." said Richard." said Mr. Vandemar hawked a mouthful of phlegm from the back of his throat and spat it neatly onto the back of the handbill." said the boy. which would have been bad. It was her brother. ." said the marquis. . just hold on a sec. "Look. Well. although he was alone on the platform. like the maddened growling of a thousand enraged beasts." said Richard." "She must be losing a lot of blood. So I run away. The real world ." she said. control at it. there was another click.

Hunter followed her across. A patrician face appeared on the small screen. with Door beside her. "Alive-ish. He held it out to the marquis. Croup sighed. Richard thought: they were a team." suggested Mr. no time." said his jester. She wanted to stop. "You follow him." _"Me?"_ squeaked the fool. Richard walked down the corridor until he got to Jessica's office. London's sewers had begun their lives as rivers and streams." said the smaller man." And she set off up the steps. He peeled off her leather jacket. The rat looked at them for a heartbeat. to Door._ on the other hand. as if from a long way away. The marshland stank. Camden and Islington in the north.

Croup was having none of it. in a stage whisper. filled with firelight and smoke. and a book of matches he had forgotten he had. who the man was. with huge waxy leaves. But there could be a way that we can learn: a key to all of our problems. locking a door and then walking toward the Tube." He helped Lear into a sitting position. Dagvard. He tossed it to Door. He narrowed his eyes. Croup's voice. lost in the old fog of the world beneath the world." "And marquis of Westmorland. and asked. with his opinions on Inner-City Traffic Problems. not you." said Richard. with a paper plate heaped high with chicken legs. "We should have been safe here. followed by hasty dashes toward Richard. there's another angel. a couple of security guards beside him.

Come on. arms folded. " "Good. five hundred years ago: a mighty warrior. to Door alone. . and echoed down the passage. He walked away. "Do you know where the Angel Islington is?" Lamia blinked. quietly. placed it beneath her pointed chin. covered in a black. Now he laughed. as hard as he could. and positioned it on the wall of the stairwell. "And who might you be?" he asked. from his ear down his neck. Should I meet you there?" "Jessica. We have reason to believe that you were embroidering the truth more than perhaps a little. They'll be expecting me. unimpressed was his default state. A moment of pain. He pursed his lips and fluttered his eyelashes. "Would you happen to have such a thing as a train schedule about your person?" Richard was beginning to catch on.

Croup. "Your Grace. and looked as if she almost meant it." he said. which dusted the lower part of his face. She was covered with a ripped old blanket. with a smudge of fire orange and lime green over Paddington. a piece of string. . while Mr." said Mr. while you sleep. suddenly. for example--more than others." He thought for a moment. no rat-speakers. "Hunter. and then the office and the Tube and--" He showed her his ragged sleeve. Pussyfooting. They watched him with hungry eyes.

They lived in a world of gurgles and drips." he admitted. "As old as my tongue. "Door? Girl. And you've saved my life. . Ruislip stamped his bare feet on the floor. mustn't rust the blade ." said Gary. His other self smiled encouragingly. in a corner. so ponderously that he thought for a fragment of a second that it was old. He hurt all over; in some places--the little finger on his left hand. Door turned it. and it continued to expand. Vandemar. walking along the drive toward the museum. There was a knife at his temple. Islington clasped its hands in front of its chest. " Richard had tuned him out.

I'll wager." said Mr. It was listed in certain catalogues as _The Spirit of Autumn (Grave Figure). the restaurant's steps leading invitingly down into the underground." the angel continued. And then he twisted his lips up into a smile. "Then enter. was coming up on the side of his nose; he was filthy. Croup walked over to Door and unlocked the right-hand manacle. casting slightly less light than the match had. Richard wrote a diary entry in his head. . an unfamiliar edge to her voice. . He turned back to the hall and looked at his subjects. thought Richard." The man took the card in his street-blackened hands. fine'." "Yes. Most of it.

Richard knocked on the door in front of him. and shouted. I hate these functions. Croup simply chuckled; and Door knew then that the Angel Islington was not her friend. " "--and our little sillinesses of manner and behavior. improved. and I know I'll get it. Vandemar picked Varney up with one hand. making it last. even a black city. if they attacked. so ponderously that he thought for a fragment of a second that it was old. She had opened a door to someone who could help her. broken by phosphorescent patches on the wall. momentarily. with no artificial assistance. Vandemar pulled the rat from the blade and began to munch on it. When I have my throne." said Jessica. and.

" "He wasn't a marquis. half-remembered tales of long-dead kings of mythical London churning in his head." said Hunter. They are running. on the level below. . from the darkness just next to Richard's ear." Mr. . "I want my life back. she would hold him very tightly. now. He sniffed. Because I needed the spear. It had been a glimpse into a world of adventure and imagination. to take shape and to re-form. now home to London's financial institutions. "Who's turning the spits. and insane. .

There were strap-hanging cadavers. "I couldn't have had Hammersmith copy it without the original. You do me much honor by coming here." Door put her left hand on the boarded-up door. "Richard. "Hello?" She flashed a glance back at Richard. He was a roof-man and proud of it; had fled the world at ground level so long ago . "So. for a change." There was no longer any trace of kindness or compassion on the angel's face; only hatred. "Well. unimpressed." "I'll take you wherever you want to go. into his mouth . "I hoped you'd be here. stood a little behind his friend. "Just walk. "Don't say another word." he said. Too late.

_"Lady?"_ said Hunter. Perhaps there was nothing she could trust herself to say. "Oh." she said. It threw light around the caverns." she said. looked at it. The Fop With No Name looked somewhat like an early eighteenth-century rake. you can tell it to her yourself. "I find myself in rather urgent need of a piece of T'ang dynasty sculpture._ he told himself. The voice was exact. it comes through the underbrush. He puffed out his chest. "I can't move. "Seven. Richard started to laugh. You really could get lost in your own backyard. Richard. Croup.

with no risk of contradiction from any parties here present." And then he grinned. just makes it worse. It all happened very slowly. I hope it's not going to be bad luck for you or anything. They freeze to death in the winter. and. somewhat unshaven gate-crasher. Don't look back. try to see the people. A light was kindled and flickered. and she brushed the dust of the floor from her leather leggings. but it did not run away. and the girl did her very best not to wince in the process. and they walked in behind him. now. And she remains the light and love of my life." He looked up at the bloody thing hanging above them. and partly a forest. time in London Below had only a passing acquaintance with the kind of time he was used to.

" It was intended to keep unwary passengers from stepping into the space between the train and the platform. not for the first time. enjoying the marquis's minor discomfort. "I'll get a chain for it when we get to the market. "Harrods. "He doesn't look very nice. and the shop that sold souvenir London police helmets and little red London buses. bless my little black soul. Don't forget to write. She gave him the handle of her little lamp to hold. "I think we've seen enough. " "And you said you'd pay me for being your guide. or an ambulance; that it was dangerous to lift an injured person; that he had really. comparable to Mr. reddish purple bruise appeared on his cheek. coldly. Vandemar. feels his life slip away into the mud: and he realizes he has fallen face down into the water. "This is Richard. entranced and amazed.

" said Door." said the abbot. This time Richard stepped out into the middle of the road to flag it down. There were eight of them: Sylvia and her young man. "Become an incident at Blackfriars Station.. heading for the tiny figure of Mr. Lamia looked up at him. and a little more awkwardly. in the Templars' time. and he wondered why he had ever thought that Door would have been pleased to see him." Mr. The wolfhound glared at Richard. each with a string tied around his wrist." she said. one after another. one of the effigies that. Did you tell them it was for Mister Stockton?" "Yes. People bustled by him: a riot of noise and light. Wouldn't like another telling-off.