Necropolis

at the gap. "If it hadn't been for me, you would never have known who she was!"
    "And that is why they have granted you an easy death." The chairman had to shout to make himself heard. "Please don't waste any more of my time, Father Gregory. It's time for you to go!"
    Father Gregory stared at the open window, at the clouds rushing past outside. A single tear trickled from his good eye. But he understood. The chairman was right. He had failed.
    "I've enjoyed meeting you," he said.
    "Good-bye, Father Gregory."
    The old man walked across the room and stepped out of the window. The chairman waited a moment, then slid it shut behind him. It was good to be back in the warmth again. He wiped some raindrops off his jacket.
    The storm was definitely getting worse.
    SIGNAL THREE
    The Tai Shan Temple was very similar to all the other temples in Hong Kong.
    It was perhaps a little larger, with three separate chambers connected by short corridors, but it had the same curving roof made of dark green tiles, and it was set back behind a wall, on the edge of a park, in its own private world. Inside, it was filled with smoke, both from the coils of incense that hung from the ceiling and from the oven, which was constantly burning bundles of paper and clothes as sacrifices to the Mountain of the East. There were several altars dedicated to a variety of gods who were represented by standing, sitting, and kneeling statues — a whole crowd of them, brilliantly colored, staring out with ferocious eyes.

    Despite the bad weather, there were about fifteen people at prayer in the main chamber, bowing with arm-fuls of incense, muttering quietly to themselves. They were many different ages, men and women, and to all appearances they looked exactly the same as the people who came daily to Man Mo or Tin Hau. And yet there was something about them that suggested that religion was not, in fact, the first thing on their minds. They were too tense, too watchful. Their eyes were fixed on a single entrance at the back of the building — a low, wooden door with a five-pointed star cut into the surface.
    The worshippers — who were, in fact, no such thing — had very simple instructions. Any child who passed through that door was to be seized. If they resisted, they could be hurt badly but preferably not killed. The same applied to any young person coming in from the street. They were to be stopped before they got anywhere near the door. The people in the temple were all armed with guns and knives, hidden beneath their clothes. They were in constant touch with The Nail and could call for backup at any time.
    This was the ambush that Matt had feared. It was the reason he had refused to take the shortcut to Hong Kong. He had been right from the very start.
    The fifteen of them stood there, muttering prayers they didn't believe and bowing to gods they didn't respect. And outside, gusts of wind — growing stronger by the minute — hurled themselves at the temple walls, battering at them as if trying to break through, tearing up the surrounding earth and the grass, whistling around the corners. A tile slid off the roof and smashed on the ground. A shutter came loose and was instantly torn away. The rain, traveling horizontally now, cut into the brickwork. The traffic in the street had completely snarled up. The drivers couldn't see. There was nothing they could do.
    The wind rushed in, and the flames inside the temple furnace bent, flickered, and were suddenly extinguished. Nobody noticed. All their attention was fixed on the doorway. That was what they were there for. Ignoring the storm, they waited for the first of the Gatekeepers to arrive.
    SIGNAL FOUR
    Scarlett was in a dark place, but someone was nudging her, trying to draw her back into the light.
    Unwillingly, she opened her eyes to find a boy leaning over her, shaking her awake. She recognized him at once and knew that the fact that he was with her, that he was bruised and disheveled, could mean only one thing…and it was the worst news of all. He was here because of her. The Old Ones must have tricked him into coming to Hong Kong, and now the two of them were prisoners. Scarlett felt a sense of great anger and bitterness. She had been drawn into this against her will. And it was already over. She had never been given a chance.
    "Matt…" she said.
    At last the two of them were together. But this wasn't how she had hoped they would meet. She drew herself into a sitting position and rubbed her