SURE AS SIN I FLYNN CARSEN

Demons On The Doorstep

Demons On The Doorstep

Hopes may rise on the Grasmere
But Honey Pie, you're not safe here
So you run down
To the safety of the town...

Flynn leaned back in the faded armchair, Clara in his lap, perusing a volume of Fordyce's Dragons, his arm wrapped around his waist, anchoring her to him. Despite the dragons, and the loss of the Library, for the first time in a long time, he was happy, deeply contented with the Clara card destiny had dealt him. It had taken a lot of trouble to bring them together, but none of that mattered to him now. He had his Hartley, his home. Flynn was so wrapped up in his reverie, he didn't hear the doorbell ring, the sound reaching him several seconds too late.

Before Clara could react, she was tumbled out of his lap, scattering Fordyce's Dragons to the wind, Flynn racing out of sight, his long limbs lending him speed. Jenkins set down his tea-cup, the others frozen to the spot, not understanding. Mind reeling, Clara did a quick headcount, only to see Ezekiel missing. For a moment, she hesitated, and then she was running, following the echo of Flynn's epic NOOOOOOOOO!, disaster unfolding out of sight.

"Who here speaks for the Library?" the stranger asked, looming over Ezekiel.

"I do, mate," Ezekiel said, "you got my double-cheese and pepperoni" -

- "I do!" Flynn gasped, waving his arms like windmills. "He doesn't speak for the Library, I do!"

"Who speaks first speaks for the Library," the stranger intoned as Clara joined the party, skidding to a halt at the sight of the strange tableau before her.

"Technically that is true," Flynn said hastily, "but that's a mere technicality" -

- "There ought to be an Intercession," the stranger aimed at Clara, startling her.

"An Intercession?" Clara echoed, glancing at Flynn for help.

"No, I don't believe there should be," Flynn said, taking a step forwards.

"You do not speak for the Library," the stranger said, shoving Flynn aside.

"Neither do I," Clara pointed out. "But you're speaking to me like I do."

"Beauty stands apart," the stranger said strangely, turning away from her. "Is there not to be an Intercession?" he fired at Ezekiel, advancing on him.

Flynn frantically mimed NO! at Ezekiel.

"Intercess all you want, mate," Ezekiel said, ignoring Flynn, "as long as I'm intercessing with my double-cheese and" -

The stranger stalked off, leaving Ezekiel at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

"He doesn't have my pizza, does he?" Ezekiel finally said with great difficulty.

"No, he does not," Flynn snapped, before leaving, all but dragging Clara with him.