The first two exploded near the stern of the white ship, with only a sec ond or so between them, which had the effect of first throwing the stern one way and then the other, and also of lifting it up out of the water. Slewing and wallowing as the engines seized up, the Lazarus was still advancing und er something of her former impetus; but then the third and fourth limpets we nt off where they'd been placed towards the stem, and that changed the whole picture. With the stern already low in the water from ma.s.sive flooding, now the prow was pushed up on the crest of white-foaming waters, and as her nos e slapped back to the tossing ocean so the engines exploded. The back of the boat was at once split open in gouting fire and ruin, and hot, buckled meta l was hurled aloft in a fireball of igniting fuel.

As the glare of the fireball diminished and a huge smoke ring climbed sk yward on the last hot gasp of the ship, so she gave up the ghost, settled do wn in the water and sank. Sc.r.a.ps of burning awning fluttered back to the tos sing ocean and the drifting smoke cleared; the sea belched hugely and offere d up clouds of steam; the gurgling and boiling of the waters continued for a few seconds longer, before falling silent . . . 'Gone!' said Darcy, when he could draw breath.

'Right,' Jazz Simmons nodded. 'But let's make sure she's all gone. And her crew with her.'

Manolis got the motor going and they chugged over to where the Lazarus had gone down. An oil slick lay on the water, where bubbles surfaced and ma de spreading rainbow colours. Then, even as they watched, a head and should ers came bobbing up, lolled over backwards, and the lower part of the black ened body slowly rotated into view. He lay there in the water as if crucifi ed, with his arms spreadeagled and great yellow blisters bursting on his ne ck, shoulders and thighs. But as they continued to stare aghast, so his eye s opened and glared at them, and he coughed up phlegm, blood and salt water .

Manolis didn't think twice but shut off the motor, picked up a speargun an d put a harpoon straight into the gagging vampire's chest. The creature jerked once or twice, then lay still in the water. But still they couldn't be sure.

Zek looked away as they reeled him in to the side of the boat, tied lead weigh ts to his ankles and let him sink slowly out of sight.

'Deep water,' Manolis commented, without emotion.

'Even a vampire is only flesh and blood. If he can't breathe he can't live . Anyway, the floor of the sea is rocky here: there will be many big groupers down there. Even if life were possible, he can't heal himself faster than they can eat him!'

Ben Trask was white and shaky but well in control of himself. His shoul der was all strapped up now. 'What about the one I knocked overboard?' he s aid.

Manolis took the boat to the middle of the bay where the Lazarus had be en moored, and Darcy gave a shout and pointed at something that splashed fe ebly in the water. Even shot, the vampire had made it half-way to land. The y closed with him, speared him and dragged him back out to sea, where they dealt with him as with the first one.

'And that's the end of them,' Ben Trask grunted.

'Not quite,' Zek reminded him, pointing at the looming stack of white an d yellow stone inland. There are two more of them up there.' She put her han d to her brow and closed her eyes, and frowned. 'Also . . . there may be som ething else. But I'm not sure what.'

Manolis beached the boat and took up his speargun. He was happy with t hat and with his Beretta. Darcy had his SMG, which he considered enough to handle, and Zek took a second speargun. Jazz was satisfied with Harry Keo gh's crossbow, with which he'd familiarized himself during the voyage. The y might have taken the other SMG, too, but Ben Trask was now out of it and they must leave the gun with him - just in case. His task: stay behind an d look after the boat. They waded ash.o.r.e and started up the rocks. The trail was easy to follo w where the thin soil had been compacted between boulders, and where steps had been cut in the steeper places. Half-way to the stack they paused to ta ke a breather and look back. Ben was watching them through binoculars, and also watching the stack. So far there had been no sign of life in the place , but as they approached its base Jazz spied movement up in the ancient emb rasures.

He immediately dragged Zek into cover and motioned Darcy and Manolis dow n among jumbled rocks. 'If those creatures up there had rifles,' he explaine d, 'they could pick us off like flies.'

'But they haven't, or they would have already,' Manolis pointed out. 'Th ey could have got us as we beached the boat, or even as we engaged the Lazar us.'

'But they have been watching us,' said Zek. 'I could feel them.'

'And they are waiting for us up there,' Jazz squinted at the rearing, dazzli ng white walls.

'We're skating on very thin ice,' Darcy told the others. 'I can feel my talent telling me that this far is far enough.'

A shout echoed up to them from the beach. Looking back, they saw Ben Tras k struggling up the incline after them. 'Hold it!' he yelled. 'Wait!'

He approached to within thirty or forty yards, then fell back against a bo ulder in the shade and rested a while. And when he had recovered: 'I've been l ooking at the fortifications through my gla.s.ses,' he yelled. 'There's somethin g very wrong. The climb looks easy enough - up those ancient stone steps there - but it's not. It's a lie, a trap!'

Jazz went back and met Ben half-way, and took the binoculars from him.

'How do you mean, a trap?'

'It's like when I listen to a police interview with a suspect perp,' Ben answ ered. 'I can tell right off if he's lying even if I don't know what the lie is. S o don't ask me what's wrong up there, just take my word for it that it is!'

'OK,' said Jazz. 'Go on back down to the boat. From here on in we step wa ry.'

When Ben had started back, Jazz looked through the binoculars at the zi g-zagging, precipitous stone stairway from the base of the stack to the anc ient walls. Close to the top, a jumble of boulders and shards of stone bulg ed from the gaping mouth of a cave, held back from the steps and the vertig inous edge by a barrier of heavy-duty wire mesh strung between deeply bedde d iron staves. Cables, almost invisible, hung down from the ramparts and di sappeared into the gloom of the cave. Jazz looked at these cables for long moments. Demolition wire? It could be.

He rejoined the others where they waited. 'I think we're walking right int o one,' he said. 'Or we will be if we start up those steps.' He explained his meaning.

Darcy took the binoculars from him, stuck his head out from under cover a nd double-checked the face of the looming rock. 'You could be right . . . mus t be right! If Ben says it's all wrong, it's all wrong.'

'No way we can cut those cables,' Jazz said. "Those things up there have the advantage. They could spot a mouse trying to make it up those steps.'

'Listen,' said Manolis, who had also been studying the route up the rock . 'Why don't we play them at their own game? Let them think we're falling fo r it, and make them waste their ambush.'

'How?' said Darcy.

'We start on up,' said Manolis, 'but we are stringing it out a little, and one of us is staying well ahead of the rest. The path turns a corner just und erneath the cave with the boulders. And just before the corner, there is this big hole - er, this concavity? - in the face of the cliff. So, one of us has a lready turned the corner, and the others look all set to follow him. The creat ures up in the fort are in a quandary: do they press the b.u.t.ton and get the on e man for sure, or do they wait for the others to come round the corner? At th is point the one in front, he goes faster, past the point of maximum danger, a nd the others pretend they are coming on! But they only just show themselves a nd don't actually start on up that leg of the climb. The vampires can't wait; they have missed one of us and so must try for the other three; they press the b.u.t.ton. Boom!'

Jazz took it up: 'The three at the rear have now showed themselves aroun d the corner, but unbeknown to the guys on top they're expecting what happen s next. As the charge blows those rocks out of the cave higher up, so the th ree skip back round the corner and into the scoop in the face of the cliff.'

'Is how I see it,' said Manolis, nodding, 'yes.'

'Or,' said Darcy, his face suddenly pale, 'we leave it till tonight, and -'

'Is your guardian angel speaking?' Manolis looked disgusted. 'I have seen that look on your face before!'

Darcy knew he was right and cursed under his breath. 'So, who do you sugg est bells the cat?' he said.

'Eh?'

'Who goes first and risks getting blown the h.e.l.l off the cliff?'

Manolis shrugged. 'But. . . who else? You, of course!'

Jazz looked at Darcy and said: "This talent of yours, it really works?'

'I'm a deflector, yes,' Darcy nodded, and sighed.

'So what's the problem?'

The problem is my talent doesn't work in fits and starts,' Darcy answered.

'It's working all the time. It makes a coward of me. Even knowing I'm protected , I'll still use a taper to light a firework! You are saying: off you go, Darcy , get on up those steps.-But it is saying, run like h.e.l.l, son - run like b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!'

'So what you have to ask yourself,' said Jazz, 'is who's the boss, it or you?'

Darcy offered a grim nod for answer, slapped a full magazine into the h ousing of his SMG and stepped out into view of who or whatever was watching from above. He made for the base of the stone steps and started up. The ot hers looked at each other for a moment, then Manolis started after him. Jaz z let him get out of earshot and said: 'Zek, you stay here.'

'What?' she looked at him. 'After Starside you're telling me that I should let you do something like this on your own?'

'I'm not on my own. And what good will you be anyway with only a spear gun? We need you down here, Zek. If one of those things gets past us, you'

re going to have to stop him.'

"That's just an excuse,' she said. 'You said it yourself: what good am I wi th only a speargun?'

'Zek, I -'

'All right!' she said. And: 'They're waiting for you.'

He kissed her and started after the other two. She let him get onto the ste ps and start upwards, then scrambled after. They could fight later . . .

Just before the crucial corner, where the narrow stone steps angled left a nd climbed unevenly up the section of cliff face directly beneath the threaten ing cave with its potential barrage of boulders, Darcy paused to let the other s catch up a little. His breathing was ragged and his legs felt like jelly: no t because of the stiff climb but because he was fighting his talent every inch of the way.

He looked back and, as Manolis and Jazz came into view, waved. And the n he turned the corner and pushed on. But he remembered how, as he'd pa.s.se d the sheltering hollow where the rest of the team would take cover, he'd been very tempted. Except he had known that once he stepped in there, it w ould take at least a stick of dynamite to get him out again!

He craned his neck and glanced straight up, and winced. He could see t he wire-netting holding back the bulging tangle of rocks not ten feet over head. It was time to make his break for it. He put on speed and climbed ou t of the immediate danger area, then glanced back and saw Jazz and Manolis coming round the corner. At which precise moment a pebble slipped underfo ot and sent him sprawling.

Feeling his feet shoot out over the rim, Darcy grabbed at projecting roc ks and in the same moment knew that it was going to happen. 's.h.i.t!' he yelle d, clinging to the cliff face and the steps, as a deafening explosion sounde d close by and its shock wave threatened to hurl him into s.p.a.ce. Then- - Fragments of rock were flying everywhere; it was like the entire sta ck was coming down; deaf and suffocating in choking dust and debris, Darcy could only cling and wait for the ringing to go out of his ears. A minute went by or maybe two, and the rumbling died away. Darcy looked back . . .

and Jazz and Manolis were clambering dangerously up towards him across st eps choked with rubble.

But up ahead someone - two someones - were clambering dangerously d own!

As Darcy began pushing himself to his feet, he saw them: flame-eyed, sna rling, coming to meet the stack's invaders head on. One of them carried a pi stol, the other had a nine-foot octopus pole with a barbed trident head. The tines must be all of eight inches long.

Darcy's SMG was trapped under rubble and stony debris. He yanked on the sling but it wouldn't come. The vampire with the pistol had paused and was t aking aim. Something thrummed overhead and the creature aiming at Darcy drop ped its pistol and staggered against the cliff face, its hands flying to the hardwood bolt skewering its chest. It gagged, gave a weird, hissing cry, fe ll to its knees and toppled into thin air.

The other one came on, cursing and stabbing at Darcy with its terrible weapon. He somehow managed to turn the wicked trident head aside as Manolis arrived behind him. Then the Greek policeman yelled, 'Get down!' and Darcy threw himself flat again. He heard the crack! -crack! - crack! of Manolis'

s Beretta, and the hissing of the vampire turn to shrieks of rage and agony . Shot three times at close range, the thing staggered there on the steps.

Darcy yanked the octopus pole out of its hands, slammed the b.u.t.t end into i ts chest. And over it went, mewling and yelping as it pinwheeled all the wa y down to the base of the stack.

Jazz Simmons came up to the other two. 'Up or down?' he panted.

'Down,' said Darcy at once. 'And don't worry, it isn't my talent playing u p. It's just that I know how hard those things are to kill!' He looked beyond his two friends. 'Where's Zek?'

'Down below,' said Jazz.

'All the more reason to get back down,' said Darcy. 'After we've burned th ose two, then we'll see what else is up here.'

But Zek wasn't down below, she was just that moment coming round the co rner. And when she saw that they were all in one piece . . . her sigh of re lief said more than any number of spoken words.

They brought petrol from the boat and burned the two badly broken vampi res, then rested a while before going up into the old fortifications. Up th ere Janos had been preparing a s.p.a.cious, spartan retreat; not quite an aeri e of the Wamphyri as Zek remembered such, but a place almost equally sinist er and foreboding.

Letting her telepathic talent guide her through piles of tumbled mason ry and openings in half-constructed walls, and past deep embrasure windows opening on fantastic views of the ocean's curved horizon, she led the oth ers to a trapdoor concealed under tarpaulins and timbers. They opened it u p and saw ages-hollowed stone steps leading down into a Crusader dungeon.

Rigging torches, the men followed the stairwell down into the reeking hear t of the stack, and Zek followed the men. Down there they foupd the low-wa lled rims of a pair of covered wells which plunged even deeper into darkne ss, but that was when Zek gasped and lay back against nitrous walls, shivering.

'What is it?' Jazz's voice echoed in the leaping torchlight.

'In the wells,' she gasped, one hand held tremblingly to her throat. 'There were places like this in the aeries on Starside. Places where the Wamphyri kep t their . . . beasts!'

The wells were covered with lids fashioned from planking; Manolis put hi s ear to one of the covers and listened, but could hear nothing. 'Something in the wells?' he said, frowning.

Zek nodded. "They're silent now, afraid, waiting. Their thoughts are dul l, vacuous. They could be siphoneers, or gas-beasts, or anything. And they d on't know who we are. But they fear we might be Janos! These are ... things of Janos, grown out of him.'

Darcy gave a shudder and said: 'Like the creature Yulian Bodescu kept in his cellar. But ... it has to be safe to look, at least. Because if it wasn't I'd k now.'

Manolis and Jazz lifted the cover from one of the wells and stood it on i ts edge by the low wall. They looked down into Stygian darkness but could see nothing. Jazz looked at the others, shrugged, held out his torch over the mo uth of the well and let it fall.

And it was like all h.e.l.l had been let loose!

Such a howling and roaring, a mewling and spitting and frenzied clamour . For a moment - only a moment - the flaring torch as it fell lit up the mo nstrosity at the bottom of the dry well. They saw eyes, a great many, gapin g jaws and teeth, a huge lashing of rubbery limbs. Something terrible beyon d words crashed about down there, leaped and gibbered. In the next moment t he torch went out, which was as well for they'd seen enough. And as the hid eous tumult continued, Jazz and Manolis replaced the cover over the awful s haft.

On their way back up the steps, Manolis said: 'We shall need all the fuel we can spare.'

'And plenty of this building timber,' Jazz added.

'And after that those other limpet mines,' said Darcy, 'so we can be sure we've blocked those wells up forever. It's time things were put back to rights here.'

As they reached the open air, Zek clutched Jazz's arm and said, 'But if t his is a measure of what Janos can do here, even in the limited time he's had, just think what he might have done up in those Transylvanian mountains.'

Darcy looked at his friends and his face was still gaunt and ashen. His th roat was dry as he voiced his own thoughts: 'G.o.d, I wouldn't be in Harry Keogh 's shoes for . . . for anything!'

Harry woke up to the sure knowledge that something had happened, somethi ng far away and terrible. Inhuman screams rang in his ears, and a roaring fi re blazed before his eyes. But then, starting upright in his bed, he realize d that the screams were only the morning cries of c.o.c.kerels, and that the fi re was the blaze of the sun striking through his east-facing windows.

Now that he was awake there were other sounds and sensations: breakfast sounds from downstairs, and food smells rising from the kitchen.

He got up, washed, shaved and quickly dressed. But as he was about to g o downstairs he heard a strangely familiar jingling, a creaking, and the ea sy clatter of hooves from out in the road. He went to look down, and was su rprised to feel the heat of the sun on his arms where he leaned out of the window. He frowned. The hot yellow sunlight irritated him, made him itchy.

Down there in the road, horse-drawn caravans rolled single file, four or five of them all in a line. Gypsies, Travellers, they were heading for the distant mountains; and Harry felt a sudden kinship, for that was his destina tion, too. Would they cross the border, he wondered? Would they even be allo wed to? Strange if they were, for Ceausescu didn't have a lot of time for Gy psies.

Harry watched them pa.s.s by, and saw that the last in line was decked in wreaths and oddly-shaped funeral garlands woven from vines and garlic flow ers. The caravan's tiny windows were tightly curtained; women walked beside it, all in black, heads bowed, silently grieving. The caravan was a hea.r.s.e , and its occupant only recently dead.

Harry felt sympathy, reached out with his deadspeak. 'Are you OK?'

The unknown other's thoughts were calm, uncluttered, but still he started a little at Harry's intrusion. And: Don't you think that's rude of you? he sai d. Breaking in on me like that?

Harry was at once apologetic. 'I'm sorry,' he answered, 'but I was concerned for you. It's obviously recent and . . . not all of the dead are so stoical abo ut it.'

About death? Ah, but I've been expecting it for a long time. You must be the Necroscope?

'You've heard about me? In that case you'll know I didn't mean to be rude . But I hadn't realized that my name had reached the travelling folk. I've al ways thought of you as a race apart. I mean, you have your ways, which don't always fit in too well with . . .no, that's not what I meant, either! Perhaps you're right and I am rude.'

The other chuckled. / know what you mean well enough. But the dead are the dead, Harry, and now that they've learned how to talk to each other, they talk! Mainly they reminisce, with no real contact with the living - except for you, of course. Which makes you yourself a talking point. Oh, yes, I've heard about you.

'You're a learned man,' said Harry, 'and very wise, I can tell. So you w on't find death so hard. How you were in life, that's how you'll be in death . All the things you wondered about when you were living, but which you coul d never quite resolve, you'll work them all out now that you're dead.'

You're trying to make me feel better about it, and I appreciate that, the other answered, but there's really no need. I was getting old and my bones w ere weary; I was ready for it, I suppose. By now I'll be on my way to my plac e under the mountains, where my Traveller forebears will welcome me. They, to o, were Gypsy kings in their time, as am I... or as I was. I look forward to hearing the history of our race at first hand. I suppose I have you to thank for that, for without you they'd all be lying there like ancient, desiccated seeds in a desert, full of potential, shape and colour but unable to give the m form. To the dead, you have been rain in the desert.

Harry leaned far out of his window to watch the caravan hea.r.s.e out of si ght around a bend in the dusty road. 'It was nice meeting you,' he said. 'An d if I'd known you were a king, be sure my approach would have been more res pectful.'

Harry - the other's deadspeak thoughts drifted back to the Necroscope, and he sensed that they were a little troubled now, - you seem to me to be a very rare person: good, compa.s.sionate and wise in your own right, for all that you are young. And you say that you have recognized an older wisdom i n me. Very well, so now I would ask you to accept some sensible advice from a wise old Traveller king. Go anywhere else but where you are going. Do an ything else but that which you have set out to do!