“You're frightened,
aren't you?” The thought hits Fiona's mind and lips simultaneously.
“All of you, you're terrified of this Lord of Doors person.”
The Angel giggles to
himself. “I wouldn't go so far as to call his Lordship a person,”
he says, “He's more what you might call a force of nature.”
“What does that
mean?” she asks, “How can an idea be a force of nature?”
“When your species
was still very young,” Tom tells her in reply, “Cowering in the
night, afraid of the dark. Can you picture that?”
“Yes,” she replies,
“I can see that, go on.”
“He was the dark, or
at least all the unknown things you imagined the darkness held. For
a long time, millennia upon millennia, he was the Weave.”
