Episode 2

When he reached the landing, Tarot stopped. The only light here was from the window over the staircase, which picked up highlights here and there but left the rest in black shadow. He had followed his instincts to this point, but now they sounded a warning note and he stopped. Listened. The only sound in the old house was the mournful noise of the wind as it muttered in the chimneys and gusted past the eaves. Yet, somehow, the place was alive. Waiting for something. A light tread on the stair made him turn: Mikki was making her way towards him. She was positioned between him and the window, and he could not make out her face. For a moment he doubted that it was Mikki at all - something about the way she walked was distinctly unfamiliar.

"Mikki?"

"Hello Tarot."

"Are you all right? I was beginning to wonder ... and where's Chas?"

"Chas?"

As Tarot opened his mouth to speak, the sound hit him again, louder, more intense than before. And this time it did not stop.

For a moment, Chas didn't know whether his eyes were open or closed. He blinked experimentally - there was nothing to see either way. Carefully he raised himself to his feet, wincing as a sharp pain flashed through his head. There was a brief wave of giddiness, and then things stabilised and he started to feel better. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the faintest of details. Somewhere high up on his left he could see the outline of a door - he one he'd been pushed through, presumably. But then why was it shut? And who had pushed him anyway? He was lying on what felt like broken beams of wood, soft and crumbly with decay. It felt gritty under his fingernails and tickled his throat with its dead smell. There must have been a set of stairs once, leading down from the door to the cellar floor, but now only the shadow-shape of a cluster of beams remained. Chas struggled to his feet. By standing on tiptoe he could just reach the bottom of the door, but the decay that had shattered the stairs had left it almost untouched, and what pressure he could exert was met by a solid resistance. Chas took a deep breath, and started to shout for help.

Tarot could hear nothing but the sound, see nothing but flashing lights. Thoughts burnt through his brain: memories, dreams, plans, flashed by and were gone. Voices from the dead past spoke again. It will destroy your mind - Do you play chess, Tarot? Play for your life - Do you think of yourself as some crusading knight? - Are you scared of the dark, Tarot? - He struggled to stop their rush, to concentrate, but it was as if something else was in charge of his mind. His thoughts ran through his head like water through his fingers. With an effort, he let go, let them sweep by him and slip away. He visualised the flow of his thoughts as a river, a river that passed through a rocky landscape. He imagined himself standing by the river, watching his thoughts go by. He forced himself to look away, to close his eyes. The river still roared in his ears, while in his mind he stooped and touched the rocky ground. Concentrating hard, he pressed the gritty earth, focussing on its feel, its flatness. The cold feel of age. The feel of wood. The roaring died away, and he opened his eyes, saw his hands pressed hard down on a shadowy floor.

Slowly, Tarot rose, lifted his eyes.

A yard in front of him Mikki stood, a metal pipe raised above her head, her body tensed to strike.

Chas stopped shouting and listened. The house was silent; even the wind outside had died away. He concentrated hard, trying to hear any trace of his friends. But there was nothing but a faint humming in his ears. He moved cautiously around, examining the cellar. At what must be the middle of the house there was a blacker shape against the black. It looked like it might have been a chimney once - perhaps there had been a furnace down here? Chas moved across and stood in the dark space, gazing up at the blackness. A cold draught moved over him, plucking like weak fingers at his skin. The humming seemed louder here, and Chas frowned. Perhaps the sound wasn't in his head? At the side of the opening, a bulb, thickly laden with dust, caught the faint glimmer of light. He could just make out a darker shape below it that his fingers confirmed was a switch. Dead of course - like the whole place. He flicked the switch.

And the bulb lit.

Mikki's eyes were wide, unblinking.

"What are you doing, Mikki?" tarot kept his voice soft friendly.>

"You must die. If you can't be controlled, you must."

"Who says so?"

"You must die." Mikki raised the pipe even higher.

"But I AM under control."

"Under control?"

"That's what was wanted wasn't it Mikki?"

"Under ..."

"So you can put it down." Still the voice was soft, persuasive.

"No! No! You must die."

"It's a heavy pipe, isn't it Mikki? So heavy. And you're tired. So very tired"

"Must ... Must ... Must..."

"Must rest Mikki, must put the pipe down. You have to sleep"

Slowly, Mikki began to lower the pipe. Then she stopped, jerked it up and lunged forward. Smoothly, Tarot moved aside and knocked the pipe away. As it banged and clattered down the stairs, his hands flashed out and hovered for a moment at her neck. She slumped unconscious at his feet.

BREAK

Helped by the bulb's light, Chas traced the wire that fed it. It led straight up the chimney. The bricks were old and crumbled and many of them had fallen away, leaving hand- and foot-holds good enough for someone as determined as he was starting to feel. The lamp light threw his shadow above him, monstrous and bloated. He shrugged, reached up, and started to climb.

"Mikki? Mikki?"

Painfully, Mikki forced her eyelids open.

"Tarot? Are you alight?"

"Yes thank you Mikki. No harm done."

"Harm?" Mikki frowned.

"What do you remember Mikki?"

"I .... that noise Tarot! That terrible noise? What was it?"

"I don't know."

Mikki struggled to her feet, looked around her at the moon-washed landing.

"How did we get up here? Where's Chas? What happened?" Her voice rose as she looked wildly around.

"It's all right Mikki. We'll find Chas."

"But what happened? I can't remember ..."

"Mikki, listen - don't try. It will come back, I promise."

"But I..."

"Trust me. all right?"

".. alight Tarot."

"Good. Then shall we go on?"

"Go on where?"

"Well, I can only follow my intuition for now, but I'd say we keep going up."

To begin with it was difficult, but the chimney narrowed and Chas was able to brace himself at its sides. His own shadow made it hard to see where he was going but gradually, painfully, he pulled himself up.

The door to the attic had crumbled to nothing long ago, and if there had ever been any coverings to the skylights they had gone too. The rising moon lit the angular space vividly, and dust danced in its beams. Carefully, Tarot and Mikki entered and looked around them.

"Well," said Tarot "this is unexpected."

"But there's nothing here!"

"Exactly."

"Perhaps we should look somewhere else Tarot - this place feels weird."

"Perhaps - what did you say?"

"It feels weird."

"Yes. it does indeed."

Tarot strode to the wall, and made his way slowly along it, hands moving over the surfaces.

"You know what else is weird about this attic, Mikki?"

Mikki looked around her nervously and followed him.

"No, what?"

"How many rooms would you say there were on the ground floor?"

"I don't know - we didn't get much chance to look, did we?"

"From the outside though - how many, do you think?"

"Oh I don't know Tarot. Six or so... can we go down and look for Chas now?"

"Quite a big house then?"

"Yes, but I... I see what you mean. You're right, Tarot. This attic is far too small."

As she spoke there was a sharp click from under Tarot's hand. A section of the wall moved slightly. A section in the shape of a door.

"Exactly."

Pleased with himself, Tarot stood back.

"After you Mikki?"

"No thank you Tarot. You first."

Tarot opened the door.

Chas was about fifteen feet above the ground now. He stopped, resting. Looking up. he tried to gauge how far he still had to go.

Above him in the dark, something moved.

At first he thought it was the movement of his own shadow and he froze. But the movement continued - a rapid, flickering motion at the limit of vision. Cautiously, Chas leaned back to let the light from below stream past his body. The black edge of his shadow swept aside, revealing a perspective of crumbled brick.

And, running down its surface towards him, a spider two feet across.