From The Green Man's Private Files: One

The elegant blonde looked quite out of place, as she stepped out of a taxi on a railway bridge in a run-down part of town. The sun was shining, but that only served to show up the graffiti and the peeling paint. She sighed and shook her head, before turning to pay the driver.

"Still time ter change yer mind, Miss," he told her dubiously. "This ain't the place for you."

"You're probably right," she handed him exact change. Her voice was proper, accentless, rather that 'posh', intonation like that of a radio announcer. "But I can look after myself - and I have a very hard-working guardian angel, to boot. Don't worry about me. I have a habit of getting along."

"Orlright, Miss." The cabbie shook his head, as he drove off.

The blonde raised her head, the breeze disturbing her golden curls. With a quiet determination, she made her way towards the massive derelict building at the end of the bridge. The ground floor windows were boarded up, the upper windows broken, some more hole than glass. A sign on the side informed the passer-by that the building was going to be converted into flats. She ascended the steps to the main doors, which opened to admit her.

Inside, the building was cavernous and empty, shafts of light descending on a floor deep in the deposits of birds. Rusty cast-iron pillars ascended to the roof, and doors at the end of the building indicated the position of vestries and schoolrooms.

"This place is a dump," she shook her head, smiling. "Why's it always places like this?"

"The shadows, " a voice caused her to turn. There, barely visible, was the figure of the Green Man. "Where evil can be found. Forgotten places."

"You mean like last summer?" Ms. Madison shook her head. "With Sparrowhawk..."

"That's why I must see you," the Green Man nodded.