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assembled on an endless unseen plain. There was a feeling of restless movement, and what might have been the fluttering and flapping of wings. My mind, or more likely my soul, had been hijacked. Brought into the over-world, the boundaries of the immaterial. The over-world wasn’t Heaven or Hell, but it was said you could see them both from there.
    A voice spoke to me from one side, and it was a harmony of many voices, like a crowd chanting in syncopation, a choir that sang only in descants. My skin crawled at the sound of it. I’d heard such a voice before, in St. Jude’s. It was a powerful, imperious voice, steeped in ancient, unanswerable authority.
    “The dark chalice is loose once more, traveling in the world of mortal men. This cannot be permitted. It is too powerful a thing to be abandoned to merely human hands, and so it has been decided that we shall descend from the glory plains and walk in the material world again.”
    A second harmonied voice spoke from the other side, rich and complex and full of discords. “Too long has the Unholy Grail wandered at random in the world of mortal men. The somber chalice, the great corrupter. It must be placed in the right hands and allowed to fulfill its purpose. Its time has come round at last. And so it has been decided that we shall ascend from the infernal plains and walk in the material world again.”
    All I could think was Oh shit …
    “Tell us what you know of the Unholy Grail,” said the first voice, and the second echoed, “Tell us, tell us…”
    “I don’t really know anything yet,” I said. It didn’t even occur to me to lie. “I’ve only just started looking.”
    “Find it for us,” said the first voice, implacable as fate, as an iceberg seeking out a ship.
    “Find it for us,” said the second voice, relentless as cancer, as torture.
    Both their voices were very loud now, beating about me in the darkness, but I refused to allow myself to flinch or quail. Show weakness before overbearing bastards like these, and they’d walk all over me. I was scared, but I couldn’t afford to show it. Both sides could destroy me in a moment, for any reason or none. But they wouldn’t, as long as they thought I could be of use to them. I glared out into the dark, showing impartial contempt. Angels or devils, they both spoke with the arrogance of anyone who speaks from a position of strength. But I felt pretty sure I had a question that would reveal their true position.
    “If you’re so powerful,” I said, “why can’t you find the Unholy Grail for yourselves? I thought nothing was hidden from you, or your bosses?”
    “We cannot see it,” said the first voice. “Its nature hides it.”
    “We cannot see it,” said the second voice. “Its power hides it.”
    “But you can See what is hidden.”
    “So See for us.”
    “I don’t work for free,” I said flatly. “And if either of you could compel me, you’d have done it by now. So stop trying to bully me, and make me a proper offer.”
    There was a long pause, and the voices said together, “What would you want?”
    “Information,” I said. “Tell me about my mother. My missing, mysterious mother. Tell me who and what and where she is.”
    “We cannot tell you that,” said the first voice. “We only know what it is given to us to know, and some things are forbidden, even to us.”
    “We cannot tell you that,” said the second voice. “We know only what is said in darkness, and some things are too awful, even for us.”
    “So essentially,” I said, “you’re really nothing more than glorified messenger boys, working on a need-to-know basis. Send me back. I’ve got work to do.”
    “You do not speak to us that way,” said the first voice, its harmonies rising and falling. “Defy us, and there will be punishment.”
    I looked across at the other presences. “Are you going to let them get away with that? If I’m hurt or damaged, you risk losing the one person who can definitely find the