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Cardui. ‘You know she won’t, Cynthia. And if she did, you know I wouldn’t go. What’s she going to do then? Throw a sick old man through a portal?’
    Madame Cardui glared at him. ‘Your last bout of fever nearly killed you. Your
first
bout of fever nearly killed you, come to that. You know you won’t survive another. Alan, we care about you. Nobody wants you dead. The minute you translate, it puts the disease on hold. Our healers are working hard to find a cure and when they do, you can come back.’
    ‘I know all the arguments, Cynthia,’ Fogarty said in a tone that dismissed them utterly.
    Blue said, ‘She’s right, Gatekeeper. You know that too. What I can’t understand is why you won’t listen to her.’
    ‘I can’t tell you that.’ He stared into the middle distance, his face like granite.
    ‘Can you tell me
why
you can’t tell me?’
    Fogarty glanced at her sideways and the smallest hint of a grin twitched at his lips. ‘You never give up, do you? Few more years’ experience and you’ll make a memorable Queen. They’ll sing about your exploits in the next millennium.’ He shook his head. ‘No, I can’t tell you why I can’t tell you. It’s important I stay here. Out of stasis, before you bring that up again. And believe me, I know the dangers. I know how ill I am, I know how close to death I am and, yes, Cynthia, I know another fever bout will kill me. And before you say it again, I do know another bout could hit me in the next five minutes.’
    ‘Then why -?’ Madame Cardui began.
    ‘None of that matters,’ Mr Fogarty cut her off. ‘I won’t be going home to the Analogue World and that’s an end to it.’
    Blue said, ‘Is there any way we can make you more comfortable, Gatekeeper?’
    Fogarty said, ‘Get Henry here. I’m running out of time.’

Chapter Nine

    ‘Can you see anything?’ Brimstone asked.
    ‘Nothing,’ Chalkhill confirmed. ‘Not so much as a chink.’
    ‘Put your wrists behind your back.’
    ‘What are you going to do?’ Chalkhill asked at once.
    ‘Bind them!’ intoned the Praemonstrator. Outside the Brotherhood his name was Avis and he made a living hiring out ouklos, but the jackal mask gave him a certain gravitas.
    ‘Oooh!’ Chalkhill exclaimed and crossed his wrists behind his back at once.
    Avis tied them expertly with a soft piece of silken rope. ‘Let the Initiation commence!’ he commanded.
    Brimstone took Chalkhill by the elbow and began to lead him towards the Lodge Room door. As they reached it and stopped, Chalkhill leaned over to whisper, ‘Silas, he hasn’t tied me very tightly. I could get free if I wanted to.’
    ‘It’s symbolic!’ Brimstone hissed back impatiently. ‘I told you that before. It’s
all
symbolic. Death and resurrection. If it wasn’t symbolic, we’d have to kill you.’
    ‘Wouldn’t want that,’ said Chalkhill cheerfully. ‘What happens now?’
    ‘What happens now is you shut up and let me get on with it,’ Brimstone told him. But he relented enough to add, ‘I introduce you to the assembled Brothers and propose you for membership. You’re not allowed to see them until you’ve been accepted. That’s why you’re hoodwinked and Avis is wearing the mask.’
    ‘That’s not Callophrys Avis, is it?’ Chalkhill asked. ‘The one with the funny wife?’
    At his own initiation, Brimstone swore an oath never to reveal the name of another Brother on pain of having his tongue removed, his eyes gouged out, his breast ripped open and his heart stopped by a magical current that tapped the fundamental power of the universe. ‘That’s him,’ he said.
    From behind them, Weiskei said, ‘Are you two ready?’
    ‘Yes,’ Brimstone told him shortly.
    ‘Knock thrice on the door, Brother Sponsor,’ Callophrys Avis instructed. ‘In your own time.’
    ‘Here we go,’ Brimstone whispered to Chalkhill. ‘I want you to do what you’re told, keep your mouth shut unless you’re spoken to and, above all, don’t camp