I thought that a bus journey with The Other would be more stressful than it was. But he just sits there. Digesting.

The bus curls back through the neighbourhoods we traveled through yesterday, only this time in reverse. When I think of how I felt back then, melancholy but determined for change, and how I feel now, hopeless and angry, it feels worlds apart.

My neighbours are dead, killed by a thing that I brought into the world. How can I bear the weight of that misdeed? I wanted to change reality for myself, but not for them. They should have continued their lives, barely thinking of me at all.

Instead, I brought The Malignant into their very homes and saved myself while it massacred them.

"Soren, press the button," Chloe leans over to put a hand on my arm, stirring me from my thoughts.

I reach out on auto-pilot, pressing the big red button and hearing the ding at the front of the bus. The bus slows down, and when I look outside the window, I can see dozens of people, just going about their day like nothing is wrong.

Like there isn't an eldritch abomination sat in their midst.

Chloe shepherds The Other off the bus, and waits for me to get off as well, before she takes in her surroundings and points. "That way's the Cathedral."

"We should hurry. Every moment outside is a chance for The Maligned to find us again," The Other warns, already starting to walk.

"You talk like they're after us specifically?" Chloe questions, falling into step beside The Other. I fall behind half a step, eyes on the ground.

"Not you or I, dear," The Other replies, putting his hands in his pockets.

I stare even harder at where I'm going, but the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

"Soren summoned it, whether on purpose or not, and there are obligations to be met. The easiest way for The Malignant to fulfil those obligations, and also continue it's plan to feed on the rest of humanity, is to wipe Soren out."

A gammy pigeon with only one foot hops into my path, before fluttering off into the sky.

"Obligations?"

"A contract of sorts. Whatever it was that Soren asked for when summoning, The Malignant is duty-bound to provide in return for a price."

I stop walking. "What price? I didn't negotiate anything with that thing."

The Other stops walking a few paces ahead of me. "You did not, because I was there, love, and got you out of there before any such bargain could take place."

I grit my teeth. "But you're telling me I could have reasoned with it?"

"It would have torn the head off your shoulders and feasted on your bone marrow," The Other says, tilting his head to one side. "I thought it far better for you if you made a contract with something a little less inclined to kill you."

"Like you?" I ask, taking a step towards him and jabbing him in the chest with my finger. "Is that what this is? You wanted to steal some kind of demon contract?"

"Guys," Chloe steps between us, her hand on my chest. "Not the time."

"Wait, have I promised something to you?" I lean around Chloe, trying to look The Other in the eye.

"Not yet," The Other says, shrugging. "But you will eventually."

"Not if I find a way to put you back in your hole," I point out.

Chloe lightly raps me on the chest. "Stop it. You two need to play nice with each other right now, because you need each other. Come on. We need to get to the Cathedral!"

She grabs a fistful of the front of my jacket and drags me. I stagger forward, surprised at the hidden strength in her somewhat smaller form. The Other tags along, though the limp seems even more pronounced now than it was at the meeting hall.

Chloe eventually lets go when she realises that I'm walking under my own steam again and glares at me to stop me from opening my mouth to say anything more.

We weave through the crowds of Birmingham, past supermarkets and bakeries, department stores and a McDonalds that always smells like grease and vomit.

Then we finally arrive at Pigeon Park, a less than grand name for a less than grand space. The park is a scrub of grassland surrounded by orange-grey paving slabs. Once a graveyard, now a scant few stones remain, their names worn away by time and bird crap. Where the dead were once respectfully buried, people sit eating their fast food or drinking cheap coffee.

And in the centre of it, St Phillips Cathedral rises. Unlike the gothic beauties of the counties, Birmingham's cathedral is built with brick and stone facings, squatting in the small space more like a bank with a bell tower than a place where supposedly God listens to the prayers of the devout. It has all the features that a cathedral should have, the stained glass, the statues, the pillars, and yet it looks like an industrial relic more than a place of worship.

The Other seems more alert as he heads straight towards the door of the building. His right leg is almost dragging along the ground now. Chloe runs forward, putting his arm around her shoulders to support him. She looks back at me, her face filled with concern.

They disappear into the cathedral while I stand there watching them.

I shake myself, jogging to catch up with them inside.

My eyes adjust to the gloom inside slowly. Chloe has managed to get The Other to the front of the cathedral and is lowering him to a pew. A concerned priest hurries over to them, dog collar pressing against his throat like it's too tight and his dark eyes bulging a little. I manage to catch the last of what he has to say.

"-need help?"

"Oh, no, we're just going to rest," Chloe says, patting The Other on the top of his head. "My friend just wants to enjoy the peace and quiet in here. Get in touch with God, you know?"

The priest looks unconvinced. I don't blame him.

The Other looks up at the priest, and I curse under my breath when it revealed the brown stains of blood smeared across his face. The priest takes a step backwards, eyes wide.

"Oh, you're really not who you appear to be, are you, mate?" The Other says, then he smiles.