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17
AFTER ALL THAT MONDAY HAD SAID about the state of the city； Jude had expected to find it pletely deserted； but this proved not to be the case。 In the time between his returning from the South Bank and their setting out for the estate； the streets of London； which were as devoid of romancing tourists and partiers as Monday had claimed； had bee the territory of a third and altogether stranger tribe： that of men and women who had simply got up out of their beds and gone wandering。 Almost all of them were alone； as though whatever unease had driven them out into the night was too painful to share with their loved ones。 Some were dressed for a day at the office： suits and ties； skirts and sensible shoes。 Others were wearing the minimum for decency： many barefoot； many more bare…chested。 All wandered with the same languid gait； their eyes turned up to scan the sky。
As far as Jude could see； the heavens had nothing untoward to show them。 She caught sight of a few shooting stars； but that wasn't so unusual on a clear summer night。 She could only assume that these people had in their heads the idea that revelation would e from on high and； having woken with the irrational suspicion that such revelation was imminent； had gone out to look for it。
The scene was not so different when they reached the suburbs： ordinary men and women in their nightclothes； standing at street corners or on their front lawns； watching the sky。 The phenomenon petered out the farther from the center of London…from Clerkenwell； perhaps…they traveled； only to reappear when they reached the outskirts of the village of Yoke； where； just a few days before； she and Gentle had stood soaked in the post office。 Passing down the lanes they'd trudged in the rain reminded her of the naive ambition she'd returned into the Fifth bearing： the possibility of some reunion between Gentle and herself。 Now she was retracing her route with all such hopes dashed； carrying a child that belonged to his enemy。 Her two…hundred…year courtship with Gentle was finally； and irredeemably； over。
The undergrowth around the estate had swelled monstrously； and it took more than the switch Estabrook had wielded to clear a way to the gates。 Despite the fact that it was flourishing； the greenery smelled rank； as if it was decaying as quickly as it was growing； and its buds would not be blossoms but rot。 Thrashing to left and right with his knife； Monday led the way to the gates and through the corrugated iron into the parkland beyond。 Though it was an hour for moths and owls； the park was swarming with all manner of daylight life。 Birds circled the air as though misdirected by a change in the poles and blind to their nests。 Gnats； bees； dragonflies； and all the mazing species of a summer's day flitted in desperate confusion through the moonlit grass。 Like the sky gazers in the streets they'd passed through； Nature sensed imminence and could not rest。
Jude's own sense of direction served her well； however。 Though the copses scattered ahead of them looked much the same in the blue…gray light； she fixed upon the Retreat； and they trudged towards it； slowed by the muddy ground and the thickness of the grass。 Monday whistled as he went； with that same blissful indifference to melody that Clem had remarked upon a few hours before。
〃Do you know what's going to happen tomorrow？〃 Jude asked him； almost envious of his strange serenity。
〃Yeah； sort of；〃 he said。 〃There's these heavens； see？ And the boss is going to let us go there。 It's going to be amazin。〃
〃Aren't you afraid？〃 she said。
〃What of？〃
〃Everything's going to change。〃
〃Good；〃 he said。 〃I'm fucked off with the way things are。〃
Then he picked up the thread of his whistle again and headed on through the grass for another hundred yards； until a sound more insistent than his din silenced him。
〃Listen to that。〃
The activity in the air and the grass had steadily increased as they approached the copse； but with the wind blowing in the opposite direction the din of such an assembly as was gathered there had not been audible until now。
〃Birds and bees；〃 Monday remarked。 〃And a fuck of a lot of 'em。〃
As they continued their advance； the scale of the parliament ahead steadily became more apparent。 Though the moonlight did not pierce the foliage very deeply； it was clear that every branch of every tree around the Retreat； to the tiniest twiglet； was occupied with birds。 The smell of their massing pricked their nostrils； its din； their ears。
〃We're going to get our heads right royally shat on；〃 Monday said。 〃Either that or we'll get stung to death。〃
The insects were by now a living veil between them and the copse； so thick that they gave up attempting to flail it aside after a few strides and bore the deaths on their brows and cheeks； and the countless flutterings in their hair； in order to pick up speed and dash for their destination。 There were birds in the grass now； moners among the parliament； denied a seat on the branches。 They rose in a squawking cloud before the runners； and their alarm caused consternation in the trees。 A thunderous ascent began； the mass of life so vast that the violence of its motion beat the tender leaves down。 By the time Jude and Monday reached the corner of the copse； they were running through a double rain： one green and falling； the other rising and feathered。
Picking up her pace； Jude overtook Monday and headed around the Retreat…the walls of which were black with insects…to the door。 At the threshold； she halted。 There was a small fire burning inside； built close to the edge of the mosaic。
〃Some bugger got here first；〃 Monday remarked。
〃I don't see anyone。〃
He pointed to a bundle lying on the floor beyond the fire。 His eyes； more accustomed than hers to seeing life in rags； had found the fire maker。 She stepped into the Retreat； knowing before he raised his head who this creature was。 How could she not？ Three times before…once here； once in Yzordderrex； and once； most recently； in the Tabula Rasa's tower…this man had made an unexpected arrival； as though to prove what he'd claimed not so long ago： that their lives would be perpetually interwoven； because they were the same。
〃Dowd？〃
He didn't move。
〃Knife；〃 she said to Monday。
He passed it over and； armed； she advanced across the Retreat towards the bundle。 Dowd's hands were crossed on his chest； as though he expected to expire where he lay。 His eyes were closed； but they were the only part of his face that was。 Almost every other inch had been laid open by Celestine's assault； and despite his legendary powers of recuperation he'd been unable to make good the damage done。 He was unmasked to the bone。 Yet he breathed； albeit weakly； and moaned to himself now and then； as though dreaming of punishment or revenge。 She was half tempted to kill him in his sleep and have this bitter business brought to an end on the spot。 But she was curious to know why he was here。 Had he attempted to return to Yzordderrex； and failed； or was he expecting someone to e back this way and meet him here？ Either could be significant in these volatile times； and though in her present venomous state she felt perfectly capable of dispatching him； he'd always been an agent in the dealings of greater souls and might still have some fragment of use as a messenger。 She went down on her haunches beside him and spoke his name above the din of birds ing back to roost on the roof。 He opened his eyes only slowly； adding their glisten to the wetness of his features。
〃Look at you；〃 he said。 〃You're radiant； lovey。〃 It was a line from a boulevard edy； and despite his wretched condition he spoke it with elan。 〃I； of course； look like ordure。 Will you e closer to me？ I don't have the energy for volume。〃
She hesitated to ply。 Though he was on the verge of extinction； he had boundless capacity for malice in him and； with the Pivot's sloughings still fixed in his flesh； the power to do harm。
〃I can hear you perfectly well where I am；〃 she said。
〃I'm good for a hundred words at this volume；〃 he bargained。 〃Twice that at a whisper。〃
〃What have we got left to say to each other？〃
〃Ah；〃 he said。 〃So much。 You think you've heard everybody's stories； don't you？ Mine。 Sartori's。 Godolphin's。 Even the Reconciler's； by now。 But you're missing one。〃
〃Oh； am I？〃 she said； not much caring。 〃Whose is that？〃
〃e closer。〃
〃I'll hear it from here or not at all。〃
He looked at her beadily。 〃You're a bitch； you really are。〃
〃And you're wasting words。 If you've got something to say； say it。 Whose story am I missing？〃
He bided his time before replying； to squeeze what little drama he could out of this。 Finally； he said； 〃The Father's。〃
〃What father？〃
〃Is there more than one？ Hapexamendios。 The Aboriginal。 The Unbeheld。 He of the First Dominion。〃
〃You don't know that story；〃 she said。
He reached up with sudden speed； and his hand was clamped around her arm before she could move out of range。 Monday saw the attack and came running； but she halted him before he plowed into Dowd and sent him back to sit by the fire。
〃It's all right；〃 she told him。 〃He's not going to hurt me。 Are you？〃 She studied Dowd。 〃Well； are you？〃 s