The Power of Five Oblivion

testing the air and the atmosphere as he did every day.
    “It’s suddenly got worse,” he had muttered. “One more night. Maybe the morning. But we can’t stay here any longer than that. By midday, we’re going to have to be on our way.”
    Jamie didn’t know what the “it” referred to. Radioactivity? Viral infection? It didn’t matter. He would have stayed behind anyway. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t leave until Matt contacted him, even if he became ill.
    Will Fletcher had gone back into his room and when he re-emerged he was carrying the array of weapons that he had brought with him; a miniature machine gun, grenades and pistols. Dressed in his grey and brown camouflage gear, he looked like an urban soldier from a hundred news reports. Jamie and Holly followed him downstairs. The other four men were already gathered in the hall with the Traveller, clustered together in the narrow space beneath the chandelier. They looked up as Jamie descended and he knew what they were thinking. Why now? It was broad daylight, half past seven in the morning. It would have been much less dangerous if they had waited for night and the cover of darkness. For just a moment, Jamie doubted himself. Suppose he had been wrong! He could be leading them all to their death. But he remembered waking up. Matt had called him. Like everyone else, he had been given no choice.
    “Jamie…?” Will checked one last time.
    Jamie nodded. He had decided.
    “We’re going into St Meredith’s,” Will explained to the others. “We have to move fast. Once we step outside this door, we don’t know what might hit us. We’ve seen the spider. There may be shape-changers. And there’s always the possibility of police or other human forces. The main thing is to get Jamie into the church and through the door, which is on the right of the main aisle, close to the nave. Look out for the five-pointed star.” He turned to Jamie. “Assuming we make it, do you want one of us to go through with you?”
    It was something Jamie had never considered. He could take one person with him to Antarctica. That was how the doors worked. But which one of them? He knew he had to make an instant decision. It might be sensible to have an adult with him, particularly one that was fully armed. But did he have any right to ask any of them to make such a journey?
    He caught the Traveller’s eye and saw him nod slightly. “The Traveller,” he said.
    “Right.” If Will was upset that he was about to be separated from his brother a second time, he didn’t show it. “Graham will stay close to you the whole time and we’ll keep the two of you covered. Holly—”
    “I’m coming too,” Holly said. She was certain that Will was going to ask her to stay behind. “I know I may not be much use but I’m not leaving Jamie. Not after all we’ve been through.”
    To her surprise, Will didn’t argue. “OK. Good luck, everyone. Maybe this is going to work out all right. Graham – try not to leave it seven years this time. You’ll come back as an old man.” Very briefly, the two of them embraced. “And good luck to you, Jamie. I hope the others are waiting for you in Antarctica. I hope this is the end.”
    He took a breath. Then they went out.

ROME
    The two priests were late for morning mass. They hurried across the Cortile Borgia , passing a cleaner who was sweeping the cobblestones. They smiled and nodded at him.
    “Buongiorno, Tasso.”
    “Buongiorno, padri …”
    The two of them disappeared round the corner. Neither of them had seen the boy, skulking in the shadows.
    Pedro wondered what he must look like. He had been kept on starvation rations during his time at the Castel Nuovo and when had that ended? More than a week ago for sure but he had lost all track of time. There had been the eruption of the volcano. He had nearly drowned on the Medusa . The flight across Rome had been exhausting, draining all his strength. And finally, just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, there had been his encounter with Silvio Rivera … Cardinal Silvio Rivera. A priest who had tried to murder him.
    The poison had come close to killing him. Rivera himself had been dead in minutes. Pedro knew that he had only survived because of a vase of slimy water – he could still taste the foul liquid on his lips. In the minutes that remained to him, he had done the impossible. He had used his power to save himself. Even so, the inside of his body felt not