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search of the astral plane。
Mark or Quentin Sabat； he had not forgotten the technique。 He took a deep breath； let it out slowly。 Usually relaxation came easily but not this time； as though some inner obstruction was determined to prevent him。 Quentin's soul was reluctant to let him be transported to the astral。 Why？ There was nothing to fear； good or evil。 The risks were the same for both； the danger of being trapped there and leaving an empty shell of a body at the mercy of mortal men…death due to natural causes。
Sabat had to relax before it was possible to concentrate。 He tried to reflect upon his past life； a means he often used。 A turmoil。 The shame of adolescence； fleeing to the protection of the Church。 Another disturbing phase； the sheer hypocrisy of the Church's hierarchy。 Was not Royston Spode an example of that？ The SAS。 Brutal efficiency。 Learning to kill and having no conscience。 Catriona Lealan 。。。 hell； he was getting an erection now。 Madeleine 。。。 Sabat sweated； became angry with himself。 They all had some sort of hold on him； had found a chink in his seemingly invincible armour。
OK he was weak； had succumbed to numerous temptations and he'd do it again。 He'd join them in their Walpurgisnacht unholy feast； resign himself to being one of them because there was nothing he could do about it He would not fight against it。
He felt himself starting to relax。 Evil had found its own level； he wasn't fighting it anymore。 He was being drowsy； eyes closing。 His mind was calmer； his breathing slower。 He might just have been going to sleep。 Everything seemed so tranquil； such a natural state of affairs。
Subconsciously he knew he was on the brink。 A void where there was impenetrable darkness； utter silence。 Then a light； far off； being brighter。 Dazzling； blinding； making him cringe。 His relaxation came back in a soothing wave and he was listening intently； waiting for something； a signal of some kind maybe。
He had no recollection of having received that signal； only that he was moving。 Airborne； hovering up against the chapel ceiling looking down on his own sleeping body； noting the peacefulness of his own expression。 He had done it； he could travel where he fancied with no chains to fetter him！
He was naked but instantly clothed himself； a drab office…type suit； it would do for now。 One last look down at that coffin and its hideous contents。 For the moment Louis Nevillon was dead； he could not follow。
Sabat was outside； now in the form of a hovering kestrel poised above the tiny chapel； so insignificant amidst the giant pines。 He delayed； almost decided to try and find Madeleine and Andre Schmid。 The latter would be at the mune only a mile or two away； the former could be anywhere。 It was not worth wasting the limited time at his disposal to try and find her。 No purpose would be served if he did。 He knew only too well where he had to go。
Soaring。 Alternately thick cloud and bright spring sunlight； the land below him being so distant that it was almost indistinguishable。 He hastened on his way； a peregrine falcon travelling with the speed of an archer's bolt； a new urgency to his journey。
Once he passed another soul； a middle…aged woman with a sagging wrinkled body。 A recent death； perhaps only minutes ago； and she was totally unaware of her nudity。 Eventually she would learn how to clothe herself。 She had received a summons and she was answering it to the exclusion of all else。
After a time Sabat saw nobody at all； just endless blue skies。 Eternity that began somewhere and ended nowhere。 You just accepted it and kept going； didn't think about it。
Just one moment of apprehension。 Could he find the place he sought？ Circumstances were different； he was different。 Then relief as ahead of him he spied the burning wasteland of a desert that was akin to eternity itself； a parched landscape that went on and on。 A place he recognised！
Sabat alighted； changing back to human form； a warrior clad only in a tattered loincloth。 Indeed he would have been as well naked。 His bare feet scuffled the hot sand and as he looked down he found himself tensing； drawing back； wanting to flee。 His skin was a dark hue； almost negroid black。 A strangled cry escaped his lips； a tremor ran through him； left him shaking。 But； of course； it had to be this way。 In this land there were only two races； the fair…skinned warriors of Good； the dark ones of Evil。 In the astral he had no choice。 He now belonged to the scattered forces of Iniquity who were fighting a ceaseless battle； victors one day； vanquished the next。 The eternal struggle of Armageddon where souls suffered and died but rose again to fight the following day。
Sabat was weary； walking with bowed head。 The sweat on his body evaporated as soon as it was formed； his throat was parched； constantly tortured by mirages of lakes and streams。 This was hell itself； its fires that huge ball of scorching flames in the sky above。
He came to the scene of this day's battle； scarcely gave it a glance as he picked his way between the strewn bodies。 Dark…and light…skinned lay entwined after their bitter hand…to…hand struggle； deathlocked； the only movement bloated vultures gorging themselves on human carrion； watching this newer； willing him to stumble and fall so that their razor beaks could gouge and tear the flesh from his bones。
Sabat continued on his way； no longer trying to measure distances as he had once done when he first started ing here。 For this was a timeless place on the borders of eternity and only the Day of Judgement would bring it all to a halt。
The corpses were fewer now； just those that had fled and collapsed with the heat and the agony of their wounds。 On into the desert； the sun past its zenith； scrub trees beginning to cast the first of the evening shadows。
Those shadows were lengthening when Sabat came upon the ruined city； crumbling edifices towering above a wall that had long collapsed in places。 He clambered over the rubble； more wary now because this was a place he had not visited previously； a sacked city where the inhabitants had either been slain or fled。 Dereliction all around him； sun…whitened bones littering the streets； no sign of life because even the vultures had deserted this place when the flesh was all gone。
Sabat did not know why he had e this far。 He had just wandered on searching for something。 Often in past visits he had e upon groups of survivors from both sides； or loners crawling away to die。 Today it seemed that nobody was left。 Armageddon had destroyed itself！
He lingered； would have returned to his physical body had it not lain in that deserted chapel along with that terrible guillotined corpse。 He had his freedom； even in a burned…up land that was something to be savoured。 He didn't want to go back。
Suddenly he heard a sound； a faint noise that seemed loud in a land of eternal silence； a whisper that hung in the still atmosphere； a rasping cry of despair。 Sabat wheeled； saw a gaping black void in the ground that might have been the entrance to eternal damnation itself； a jagged hole down which a flight of broken steps disappeared in the darkness。
He stepped forward； experienced a fleeting sensation of terror but shrugged it off。 It might be a trap but it was unlikely。 He peered down into those black depths； heard rasping breaths and the rattling of phlegm in tortured lungs。 Slowly； he began to descend。
At first the darkness was impenetrable but as he progressed it became lighter； a murky greyness akin to that of a foggy November morning。 He knew not whence the light came； but had long since learned to accept everything in this hellish land。 Down and down； the steps twisting and treacherous； until at length he arrived in an elongated dungeon that also seemed to have no end。 The contrast in temperature had him shivering and he had almost decided to reclothe himself in warmer garments when he spied the man slumped against the wall。 And even as he stared in amazement Sabat saw the head move； raising up； wide eyes that mirrored pain and hopelessness。
The other's skin was of a pallid texture and even a warrior of darkness chained down here for long periods could not have had so sickly a plexion。 Long fair hair or was it grey？ It was difficult to be sure in this half…light。 Wasted flesh had rendered the frame virtually skeletal。
'I knew somebody would e one day。' The voice was strained yet mellow。 'I heard your footsteps above； stranger； yet even you cannot help me for I cannot return to my own people。 I see you are one of the dark ones。'
'Why are you here？' Sabat was curious； noted that this man was not chained to the wall like the long…dead skeletons he could see on the other side。 'Surely you could have escaped。 Even frail as you are； you could have crawled up those steps into the open！'
'No； I cannot； I dare not leave here。' A pathetic whine。
'Can you not return to the white…skinned forces who live and die daily？' Sabat's eyes narrowed and again he suspected a trick of some ki