She also made a point of at least skimming through the books before she returned them and they made her uneasy, or to be more honest with herself, it was Reggie's interest in them which made her uneasy. She had no doubt in her own mind that, in one sense or another, magic 'worked';

as a very widely read librarian, she knew that the basic facts (if not the explanation) of telepathy, clairvoyance, telekinesis, psychometry and other paranormal functions had been established beyond doubt. Parapsychology, over the past quarter-century, had become a respectable science – even if the attitude of other scientists to its findings had remained nervously ambivalent. Brenda recognized that paranormal abilities existed and could be trained and developed and used for good or ill, like any other natural gift, and Reggie's preoccupation with the subject disturbed her. What was he up to?

His briefing of Gareth Underwood did nothing to reassure her.

When she had poured drinks for the three of them (Gareth carefully addressing her as 'Miss Pavitt') Reggie came straight to the subject.

'You know about the witch colony in Savernake Forest?'

'The so-called "black" group, sir? Yes, we know of them.'

'I want you, very discreetly, to go and speak with their leaders. Could you manage that?' 'I'm sure we could.'

'Not "we", Underwood – you personally. I'm borrowing you from the Section, and your chief knows this is a confidential mission, not to be divulged to any of your colleages, even to him. You will be briefed by me and you will report to me. You may ask your chief and he will confirm it.'

'Very well, sir.'

'Right. Tell me what you know about the group – or will you have to refer to records first?'

'Only for details, sir. I know the outline. We're almost certain they are the Angels of Lucifer, who…'

'I know of the Angels of Lucifer. Go on.'

‘Well, sir, since they commandeered their village base, they're believed to have grown to about thirty or forty strong, possibly more, since a lot of their new recruits come in at night, and in country like that our agents can't watch the whole perimeter. Our men say there's something purposeful about the way the new people come in, as though they're being called in on a mobilization plan. Only an impression, of course, but a strong one.'

'Interesting.'

'The leaders are a man and a woman. We don't know their names, but all the local people call her "the Black Mamba". A very attractive woman in her middle twenties with long dark hair and a rather oriental face. Type-cast, one might say. She's known as a holy terror. The man is perhaps a year or two older, tall and quiet. The locals are very careful not to offend them, because various unpleasant things happen to those who do offend them and some of those things aren't easy to explain.'

'What kind of thing?'

'Two or three apparently causeless deaths. A few fires which have broken out in places that were well guarded. Illnesses which disappeared again as soon the victim toed the line… The general feeling in the Section, sir, is that these incidents are natural but so ingeniously organized that they look like black magic – which most of the locals believe they are.'

'And what's your own feeling, Underwood?'

'Frankly, sir, I'm not sure. I'm keeping an open mind. But anyway, however they're working it, it's very effective. They have everyone within five or ten kilometres doing what they're told. Those who do are left in peace, so now everybody does.'

‘H'mm… Is the group armed?'

'Not heavily, sir. Nobody's seen more than a couple of shotguns. They're brought along by escorts when the leaders deliver a warning in person. They've never been used, so far as we know, except for hunting rabbits and game.'

'How do the group survive? Feed themselves and so on?'

'The village is a vegetable-growing area, sir, with some cattle and pigs and poultry. More or less self-supporting. If they need anything extra, they demand tribute – but never exorbitantly. It looks as though they want the locals disciplined but not antagonized to the point where they move out.'

'They sound very intelligently organized.'

'They are, sir. All our agents agree on that.'

'And ruthlessly "black" in magical terms.'

'They certainly seem out to create that image of themselves,' Gareth said cautiously.

'You don't believe they are, in effective practice?'

'As I told you, sir -I keep an open mind.'

'Very professional of you. But whatever the truth of it, Underwood – in practical politics a very interesting polarization is taking place. We know of at least a dozen witch communities that have managed to establish themselves; three are openly "black" in their attitudes and behaviour, the rest "white". The two stances seem quite distinguished and deliberate, but the viability and success of the various groups differ considerably. Two "white" and one "black" have not survived; they were destroyed by local action, with or without undercover Beehive encouragement. The most important "white" centre is in North Wales, in an excellent defensive position and with local public support…'

'New Dyfnaht. We know about it, sir.' 'Of course you do. The Section is perfectly well aware of all this – but has not, I think, realized the importance of the black/white polarization… We could not, for example, destroy the New Dyfnant group – which, as you doubtless also know, is growing in the same way as the Savernake Forest one – short of mounting an overt Army offensive, and the time is not yet ripe for such activity. All anti-witch action must appear to be spontaneous popular anger, for the time being at least… But understand this, Underwood. Savernake and New Dyfnant are natural enemies. And it is to exploit that fact that I want you to go to consult with our friend the Black Mamba and her -er -.consort.'

'"Friend", sir?' Gareth ventured a faint smile.

'She may well prove to be – as long as it suits them and^ us. Are you beginning to understand me?'

'I think so, sir. You want a secret alliance between Beehive and the Savernake Forest group, against New Dyfnant and the other "white" groups.'

'Exactly. Though if I substitute "myself" for "Beehive" in your definition, I hope you won't think it for megalomania. It's merely to underline the extremely confidential nature of any such arrangement.'

'I get the message, sir.'

'Good. Now, you may offer the Black Mamba's group whatever material help they find attractive – food, equipment, weapons, medical supplies – use your discretion; I'll back you up. We'll find ways of getting it to them. As for non-material benefits, you'll have to play it by ear. For example, you can offer them immunity for themselves when Beehive emerges in due course to take charge but I doubt if they'd believe you for a moment. You and I wouldn't, in their place, because there's no way of guaranteeing that the promise would be kept, and they know it as well as we do. But immunity as long as the pact lasts – obviously yes. And there may be something they want. Information on the white groups' activities, for example. You'll soon find out, I'm sure.'

'If they're willing to talk at all,' Gareth said, 'they'll tell me what they want. But what help do you want out of them, Sir Reginald? Guerilla-military? Informational? Or… well, magical?'

'Your mind is still open, I see,' Reggie said drily.

‘I just want to know what I'm expected to ask for.'

'Quite so. You will ask for their help against the white groups in general and the New Dyfnant group in particular. Throw "informational" into the ring as a starter. Try to learn, diplomatically, what they believe they can do and encourage it. The objective at this stage is to establish the alliance, not to demand specific commitments from their side.'

'But I may make specific commitments from our side.'