Free Casino Infernale by Simon R. Green Page A

does.”
    •   •   •
    Molly led the way out of the dining hall, since she knew the house best, and we all followed her through a twisting maze of hallways and side corridors. Some of the lights had gone out, leaving whole areas nothing but darkness and shadow. I told myself it was just old bulbs failing, but I wasn’t sure I believed me. We called out Adams’ name, at regular intervals. He never replied. Eventually, we split into two groups, to cover more ground. Coll went off with Troy and Morrison, while Molly and I stayed together. We went back and forth, and up and down, checking every door and room we passed, until finally, we found him.
    Phil Adams lay at the bottom of a flight of stairs. From the way his head was twisted around, it was clear his neck was broken. There was a lot of blood around the body. At first, I thought he must have fallen. Maybe even been pushed. But once I turned him over, I saw that he was covered in bloody hoof-marks. His flesh was torn and his bones were broken and his face was a bloody mess. He looked like he’d been trampled to death, by some great horse.
    Or Horse.
    •   •   •
    I checked for a pulse anyway, because you have to. He was still warm, but he was very definitely dead. Whatever had attacked him had done a real job on him. It felt like every bone in his body was broken. Stephanie Troy turned up while I was still checking out Adams. She’d got separated from the others. She couldn’t even look at the body. She turned away, saw Morrison coming down the corridor, and ran to him to press her face into his shoulder. He held her to him, patting her back automatically, and then he looked past her at the dead body, and his face went white . . . with what looked a lot more like anger than shock. He held Troy tightly, murmuring comforting words, unable to take his eyes off the body. Coll turned up last, saw what had happened to Adams, and swore briefly. I straightened up, stepped away from the body, and glared at Coll.
    “What the hell were you thinking, letting those two go off on their own? You know this house! You know better.”
    “It wasn’t his fault,” said Troy, finally letting go of Morrison. She looked at Coll and Molly and me, but she still couldn’t bear to look at the body. “There were just so many doors and exits and corridors that doubled back on themselves, we got separated. What . . . happened to Phil?”
    “Looks to me like he’s been trampled to death,” said Coll. I was glad he said that, so I wouldn’t have to. Morrison glared at Coll.
    “Are you insane? Trampled? How could anything have trampled Phil to death, without any of us hearing it?”
    “Are we talking about a horse?” said Troy, just a bit shrilly. “You think a horse got in here and did that?”
    “Shaman and I heard a horse, earlier,” said Molly. “We heard it running along the beach, but we couldn’t see it anywhere.”
    Coll looked at her sharply. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. Of us all, he seemed the most shaken. I looked at him steadily.
    “You know what’s going on here, don’t you?”
    “It’s the White Horse,” said Coll. He looked older, his face grey and slack and sick. “The Horse from under the mound. It’s here.”
    “It shouldn’t have been him,” said Troy. “Not Phil. He was always the gentlest of us all.”
    She turned abruptly and ran down the corridor, heading in the direction of the front door. Morrison hurried after her. I didn’t want to leave the body, but I didn’t want Troy off on her own, either. So we all went after her. She managed a remarkable turn of speed, and we were all seriously out of breath when we finally caught up with her. She was standing in the entrance hallway, staring at the closed front door with wide, spooked eyes. Morrison got to her first, and grabbed her by the shoulder. She didn’t look round. He spoke sharply to her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the closed