Sarah squeezed past a crowd at the entrance who were having a loud discussion about how their courses were not all they had hoped for, and looked around the small, round tables for Howard. She saw the masculine-looking woman sitting in a corner, dressed in a dark grey shirt and sporting a short, spiked haircut. Her hair was dyed platinum blond, as were her eyebrows. Her overall appearance was striking and, Sarah had to admit, it was quite a good look for her.

‘I take it you’ve ordered already?’ asked Sarah as she sat down, noting the number on a stick sat on the table, next to a pile of Howard’s lecture notes. She slung her jacket over the barrier between the upper and lower areas, and slipped her satchel under the table.

‘Yeah, I’ve been here a while already,’ said Howard. ‘I’ve only got one lecture on Mondays, so I’ve just been in here, going over my notes and trying to get my head around them.’

‘What is it you’re having trouble with?’

‘Quantum mechanics.’

‘Ah. I can’t really help there.’

Howard laughed. ‘You’re the third person to say that to me. I’ll pick it up eventually, I’m sure.’

‘Have you talked to your tutor about it? They should be able to help.’

‘I’m seeing him this afternoon at three. I just want to give it one more read through myself beforehand.’

‘Fair enough. Well, I’m going to get some lunch. Want a coffee or something?’

‘Got one already, thanks.’

Lunch passed with little more than small talk. Sarah picked at her pizza and tried to ignore the fact that much of it appeared to be made of grease from the cheap cheese topping, while Howard devoured her egg and chips like she had not eaten in weeks. How she managed to stay thin despite her appetite always amazed Sarah.

‘So, what was it you wanted to talk about?’ Howard eventually asked.

‘Actually, I thought it was you who wanted to talk,’ said Sarah. ‘I got the impression last night that there was something bothering you.’

‘Oh. Right,’ Howard looked uncomfortable now. ‘Well, err, I don’t know if this is the right place.’

Sarah half wanted to tell her to forget it and move the conversation on to something else, but she contained herself. There was clearly something on the younger woman’s mind and it would be best if she just let it out.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘You can tell me anything.’

‘Well, it’s kind of private, you know?’

‘Fair enough. If you ever want to talk, you know where my office is.’

Howard nodded. ‘That might not be the best place to talk either. It might give the wrong impression, you know?’

Since the start of the Michelmass term, the first of the three terms making up each academic year at Durham University, Sarah had been President of its Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered students’ association. Unlike most student society presidents, Sarah had a small office in the union building from where she could coordinate her society; liaise with both university and student union staff and meet students that were having problems with their sexuality or gender identity.

Most of the time, the office was staffed by volunteers from the society who had a free hour during the day, or some time to kill in the early evening before they went out to the pub, but occasionally Sarah would be confronted by a student with real problems, and those were the times she lived for. They gave her a chance to flex her counselling skills and sometimes, when there was a problem at the university level causing the student hassle, it also gave her an outlet for her constant desire to kick the world into shape.

Times like those were becoming few and far between since she had been able to convince the university and the union to have an LGBT association representative present at key meetings, to which she would often send a volunteer because meetings bored her, but she continued to live for the challenges wherever she could find them.

Howard put down her third cup of coffee with a determined thunk. ‘Look, the thing is I’ve got this housemate, Liam, who’s really been worrying me. He doesn’t go to lectures much, doesn’t talk to anyone in the house anymore and spends a lot of his time in his room. Now I know all that’s kind of par for the course with some people but I’ve heard weird muttering and chanting when I’ve passed his door and that’s the bit that’s worrying me.’

‘What sort of chanting?’ asked Sarah. This was not the type of conversation she had been expecting but it had caught her interest nevertheless.

‘I’m not sure. It’s not English, I can tell you that much.’

‘Do you think he’s into the occult?’

Howard nodded. ‘It’s crossed my mind. I’ve done what protection spells I know of, but I’d appreciate it if someone with more experience could give me there opinion.’

‘That’s fair enough. I’ll pop ’round tonight if you’d like?’

Howard smiled. Sarah could not help getting butterflies in her stomach when Howard smiled at her. The woman had such a bright smile, almost radiant; enhancing her already good looks. Sarah could not help but be attracted, current relationships notwithstanding.

Chapter Six

Extract from Sarah Barclay’s Diary

22^nd January 2000 – Second term of my second year and I’m really enjoying it. Settled back into uni life bettr than ever before. This place really feels like home, now; which is probably because I’m sharing a house this year rather than living in halls. Having my own place makes me feel far more settled. I love it! I just wish there weren’t so many noises outside keeping me awake at night. I’ve looked out of the window to see what’s going on out there when I hear voices and weird sounds in the street but I’ve never caught anyone yet. Maybe I’m just going a bit mad? I don’t know. I’m probably overreacting, as usual.

Peter is spending a lot more time here lately, which is great. I really like him. I’m not sure if I like him in that way, but he’s certainly grown on me over the last few months. He even came up to Coxton to see me over the holidays, which was nice. Daniel sent a card, but it’s not the same. He said he had to work but I’m starting to think maybe we weren’t cut out to be in a relationship.

1

The early morning light had hardly begun to reach over the tops of the three- and four-storey town houses on Hallgarth Street as Sarah pulled her aching body out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Her head pounded in time with her heartbeat; her neck and shoulders were tense and felt like she had been working out too much. The night before was supposed to have been a quiet night in, but then Howard and Peter had come to visit, bringing a couple of bottles of wine and some takeaway menus with them. It had all gone downhill from there.

‘You look how I feel,’ said Daniel as she passed him in the hallway.

‘Remind me never to drink again,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you up a little early? You don’t have lectures until ten.’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he said. ‘Someone singing kept me up this time. I’m going to call the landlord before I head out. The windows obviously aren’t sealing properly or we’d not be hearing this crap all the time.’

She wished him luck and stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Her arms ached as she took off her dressing gown and slipped out of her pyjamas. On the inside of her right thigh was a small bruise the size of her thumbnail. It was blue-black in the centre flowing into an odd tinge of green on the outer rim. She ran her finger over it, wondering where it had come from. It was painless to the touch. She paid it no more heed. Bruises came and went without warning in her experience; had done for years and would no doubt continue to do so.

Howard had wanted to talk to her about something the night before, but with everyone else there she had been too nervous, or maybe too embarrassed. Although she had only known the other woman properly for a few months, although she had recognised her in passing before that, they had become close; good friends, although not best friends. That title was still reserved for Daniel, even if they were drifting apart.

As she showered, she made a mental note to meet Howard for lunch. Maybe she could prize the details of whatever was bothering Howard from her then. She decided to send her a text when she got out of the shower, providing her fingers were working well enough to use the buttons on her mobile by then. The shower usually fixed that but of late it was taking longer and longer on a morning for her joints to un-seize themselves. Just the week before she had been late for morning lectures twice because she found it so hard to tie her shoelaces.

If it doesn’t get better soon, I’ll see the doctor, she decided. The last thing she needed was to end up crippled by arthritis by the time she was thirty, like her grandmother had. The signs were there, but she had often ignored them or dismissed them outright as her seeing things that were not there simply because of her family history.

Skipping breakfast because she felt so hungover, she threw on a pair of jeans and a creased black blouse, her favourite, fighting her stiff and mostly uncooperative fingers to fasten the buttons; then donned a long, black cardigan to finish off the outfit. After rummaging around under the bed for a good five minutes, she eventually found her shoes and was all set to head out to lectures. She kissed Daniel goodbye, wished him luck with the landlord and headed out to her first lecture of the day.

The morning passed in a slow procession of boredom and note-taking. A procession of lecturers who looked even more worse for wear than Sarah did came in, said their peace, asked if there were any questions then did their best not to look disappointed as the same people asked the same questions they had no doubt heard year after year. She wondered how these people coped, trying to teach subjects they had probably once had a real passion for, to people that mostly did not share their love. That was no way to live life, she decided.

Her satchel rang as she was walking to the university library. Hunting around desperately in its recesses, trying to find her mobile before the voicemail kicked in, she took the call on the last ring.

‘Hiya!’ said Howard, sounding far too happy for a Monday morning. ‘Still up for lunch?’

‘Of course,’ Sarah replied. ‘I’ve just got to check some books out at the library. Meet you in Riverside in half an hour?’

‘I’ll grab us a table.’

3

‘Where do you want to start? The trip to the hotel? That weird recording your friend sent you?’

‘Hey, he was your friend too as I recall.’

‘That was when I thought he was a she. I feel like I don’t know who he is now.’

‘Oh don’t start with that judgemental shit.’

She stood up and made her way to the kitchen to make another pot of tea.

‘Hey,’ Peter called after her. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Do you want tea?’ she called back.

‘I’ve still got some here.’

‘I’ve put another pot on, just in case,’ she said as she came back into the lounge. ‘Now, where were we.’

‘You were avoiding the subject, I think.’

‘Yes, well let’s continue on that line shall we? You said the design at the hotel reminded you of something?’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Peter, leaning forward, his voice suddenly far more alert. ‘I’ve not found it in your books or online yet but the magic circle thing did make me think of the reenactment we went to at Coxton one year.’

‘The village’s 900 year anniversary fête, wasn’t it?’ asked Sarah.

‘That’s it, yes. I can’t fully remember what went on but there was something weird about the reenactment the historical society put on that evening. Some kind of pseudo-pagan rite. It made me feel very uncomfortable, I remember that much.’

Sarah nodded. ‘I don’t remember much of that whole day, but weren’t there a load of robed figures doing something odd with an unprotected magick circle?’

‘So you said, yes. I don’t know anything about magic protection.’

Sarah nodded. ‘Yeah, I’m sure of it. We’ll have to look up what they were doing, and why. It’s possible the squatters were doing something similar.’

Peter made a note in his notebook. Sarah waited until the sound of his scribbling finished before going on. The noise reminded her of the night before; that stritch-scritching outside, trying to get in. She shuddered.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Peter.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Well, if you’re sure. What next?’

‘The EVP,’ she said, grasping the chance to get away from her silly fears. ‘It mentioned something about a house without walls? I’d like to try to find more references to that. I’m certain I’ve heard it before.’

‘There was nothing in the encyclopaedia about it. Maybe you misheard?’

She shook her head. ‘No. The voice was too clear for that. I know it’s important, I just don’t remember why.’

‘Okay,’ said Peter. He wrote down another note. ‘Want to try to find more about that Toth bloke as well?’

‘Toth isn’t a “bloke”, Peter. By the way, what did the encyclopaedia say about him?’

‘Precious little. It’s mainly about witch hunts and superstitions, isn’t it?’

‘Well, yes. Surely there was something, though?’

‘Not a lot. It was mainly a summary but it did mention his followers wanting to bring him forth or something, because then they’d die first. Maybe that’s what the squatters were doing?’

Sarah rested her chin on her hand, unconsciously massaging her jaw and upper lip with her fingers as she considered the idea. ‘It’s certainly possible,’ she said. ‘What did the magic circle look like again?’

Peter described it to her. She tried to picture it in her mind. Had she seen something like it before? She was not sure.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s assume for a moment that the squatters were interested in Tsoth Nemorrah, whatever he is or whatever he’s up to. If that’s the case, the magic circle might have been part of a ritual to do with him. It would certainly explain some of the other EVP on the recording, wouldn’t it?’

‘The chanting and people saying “He comes”, you mean?’

‘Exactly.’

‘It also means we’re in the clear, doesn’t it?’ Peter sounded almost hopeful.

Sarah looked at him for a moment, searching for any hint of confidence in the murky shadow of her vision. She wanted what he had said to be true as much as he likely did, but something in the back of her mind told her to press on with this. It could not be so simple, could it?

‘I wish I could say yes,’ she said. ‘But I honestly think this is too good to be true.’

Peter slumped back in his chair with a sigh.

‘What will it take to convince you that we’re safe?’ he asked. ‘It’s gone. Whoever or whatever this Tsoth thing is, it’s obviously not the same thing we fought.’

‘I know, I know,’ she said, her tone almost pleading with him to bear with her. ‘It’s just that I have a gut feeling that there’s more to this than we’re seeing.’

‘So where do we go from here? We can’t call the others in on a hunch. They simply won’t come. Hell, I wouldn’t.’

Sarah nodded. ‘I know. We need more evidence. We need to go back to where this all started.’