Authors: Mark Chadbourn
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General
Church felt sick; he had never considered it for even a moment. He had
failed him, failed them all.
Laura and Ruth fell back as Balor grew; to Church's warped perception the
Beast appeared to be filling the entire room.
Veitch was sobbing now. "The Queen-that witch that screwed Tom-she
kicked me out because she found out I was tainted. Useless. Just thrown away.
Too much of a loser to fight back. Doing everything they made me do. Useless!
A part of me always knew that shit was in my head, and I couldn't tell anybody!
Couldn't even tell the part of me that did the thinking!"
There was a noise like metal sheets being torn in two. Behind Balor, a
doorway had opened in the air presenting a vista on to shimmering stars
hanging in the cold void. Streams of sparkling dust began to drift out of it into
Balor; the final power he needed.
"Not fair." Veitch was on his knees, whimpering. "Not fair."
"The gates are open, Ryan. You can stop it." Church felt like he was calling
up from the bottom of a well.
"I can't do it. I'm too weak. I've always been too weak."
"No, you're not. You've just got to see yourself. Have faith in yourself."
Veitch shook his head, blood splattering from his nose. He was still fighting
it, but his heart wasn't in it; he'd already given up.
Anger flashed across his face. Against his will, he lifted the silver hand to
drive it into Church's chest.
A long, low moan emanated from the glowing head of Bran the Blessed.
Light flowed from it into Church's mouth, soothing, invigorating; whispers crackled across his head; the god was telling him the secrets of the infinite. A
word that was not a word was branded in sapphire letters on his mind. A word
of power from a language before language. A symbol that could change reality
with a single utterance.
Church fumbled to one side. Caledfwlch jumped into his hand of its own
accord. With a tremendous effort, he drove himself up and forward. The Sword
punched through Veitch's gut, ripped upwards. For one moment they were
locked together, in body and in thought.
Veitch retreated into the depths of his head. In the end he had amounted to
nothing; despite all his hopes and dreams, he hadn't wished hard enough.
Briefly, his eyes flickered towards Ruth, as beautiful as the first time he had seen
her. He remembered them making love in a warm room, recalled the way her
hair reminded him of the liquorice sticks he had as a child; the way she made
him feel he was more than what he was; the deep peace she had given him in his
soul for the first time in his life. Through all the violence and bitterness and
despair, he could hold on to that sparkling moment of transcendence.
Life gushed from him; the room grew slowly dim. And then he was in a
slow boat drifting to an island off the Welsh coast, watching a mermaid swim
in the waters beneath him, seeing her wave at him and smile. And he was lying
on the warm ground looking up at tiny, golden figures flitting through the trees
on gossamer wings; one of them coming down to see him; to say he wasn't so
bad after all.
Life filled with wonder. Moments of peace he could count on one hand.
If only ... If only ...
Shavi watched his friend's face grow pale. His heart broke in two. Laura stared,
wishing it was her. And Ruth cried gently, tried to catch his eye to give him
some affection to take with him, to say he was forgiven his sins; to say he was a
good man and a hero. But he didn't see her.
Church saw the despair flare in Witch's face, saw his dreams shatter and fall into
nothing. There was one instant when life flickered in his pupils, an instant later
there was nothing. He slumped to the floor, dead.
Church could barely see for his own tears. He was aware of the sucking
power of the gate, and Balor rising up, ready to usher in the End of Everything.
And it was the End; for him.
With the last of his strength, he ran forward. The word of power burst from
his throat and the whole of existence turned inside out. Blue Fire leapt from the artefacts to each of the five-including the prone form of Veitch. Tom had been
right; there had to be five, the final element in a spell as old as time. The energy
rose up in a column in the space amongst them and then rushed towards the
Heart of Shadows. For the briefest instant, Balor was drained of every shred of
dark power. Church seized the moment. Caledfwlch, known as Excalibur, known
as the Sword of Righteousness, drove straight into the Beast. Church saw terror
etched on a boy's face, saw a sharp-suited man recoil in horror, saw a general roll
his eyes in despair. And still he pressed on, driving Balor back towards the gate.
The effort was too great, but then they passed a certain point and the
dreadful vertiginous pull of the beyond took over. The flesh felt like it was being
ripped from Church's body. Balor went first, his form compressing as the power
was sucked back out of it; and then he was folding becoming nothing, less than
a child, less than the enormous black insect he resembled for a fleeting moment,
and then he plunged into the gate, blocking its pull briefly.
Church had time to turn. His eyes fell on them one after the other: first
Veitch for whom he grieved as if he had lost a brother, and then Shavi, and
Laura, as close to his heart as he could imagine. And then Ruth, who was his
heart.
He was dying, even if the gate didn't have him in its pull. His regrets at
doubting Ruth were driven away the moment he looked into her face. All he
wanted to remember was the love he saw there, mingled with the terrible pain.
"I'll love you." Ruth was shouting, her voice torn apart by an unbearable grief.
"Always, Church. Always."
She loved him, she loved him, she loved him, and it wasn't fair.
She saw his face one final time, just as she remembered that first night under
the bridge, filled with decency and honesty and all the best things she had ever
wanted in her life. Slowly the haze that swirled at the gate's entrance folded
around him. One word drifted back to her: ". . . forever ..."
And then he was gone.
ver London, the Fabulous Beasts swooped on heated currents rising from
the raging flames that had eradicated any taint of the Fomorii. In their
grace and serpentine power, in their glittering like jewels in the setting sun,
they were inspirational. Hope and wonder soared with them, and on their backs
rode a new age, free of the hated old ways and the tyranny of mundanity. Again,
as it once had been, it was a world where anything could happen.
Of the Fomorii there was no sign. Whether they had followed their god into
oblivion, or simply retreated, broken-backed, to T'ir n'a n'Og, no one knew, but
no trace remained of them in the world. All the places they had made their own
burned in the flames of the Fabulous Beasts: the financial district, the Palace of
Westminster, Buckingham Palace; and of the black tower that had been the
source of their power, nothing at all remained, not even rubble.
Ruth, Shavi, Laura and the Bone Inspector had escaped, carrying the body
of Witch, before the ultimate destructive force of the Fabulous Beasts had been
unleashed on the tower; indeed, it had almost been as if the serpents had waited
for them to vacate before attacking.
They made their way north through the city, skirting the areas of greatest
destruction. For the main the journey passed in a blur; they were in shock, too
distraught by the blows that had been inflicted on them to comprehend the scale
of their victory. It was a triumph they had never imagined in their wildest
dreams, but it didn't feel like one. Occasionally the Tuatha De Danann could be
glimpsed like flitting golden ghosts, moving out across the land. Survivors, but
not victors; that title belonged to humanity, thanks to the Brothers and Sisters
of Dragons, and the sacrifice of people who cared.
The Bone Inspector slipped away respectfully while they buried Veitch by
torchlight on the heights of Hampstead Heath overlooking the city. None of
them really knew what to say; the loss was too acute, the atmosphere of broken
dreams too oppressive. As they started to throw the clods of earth back into the
hole, Shavi finally broke down.
"Goodbye, my good friend," he said, the tears streaming down his face. "You brought something to all of us. And you did your best, often despite yourself, and that is more than enough. I will miss you more than you ever could
have believed."
And then they were all crying, not just for Veitch, but for all the ones they had
lost, and for themselves, who would have to deal with the world left behind and the
lack of their friends in it; and none of them tried to hide their tears, not even Laura,
who surprised herself with the weight of the emotion pouring out of her.
When all their tears were gone, and the mound of brown earth stood complete and alone in the rolling green, they turned to face the uncertain times
ahead.
The night felt subtly different. The lamp of the moon cast a beautiful white
light from a sable sky now devoid of storm clouds. The sourness in the air that
had arrived with Balor's rebirth was gone, replaced by the aroma of green vegetation in an atmosphere slowly ridding itself of pollution; it smelled like hope.
Beneath the stars, Shavi, Ruth and Laura huddled together around a bonfire
against the October chill. The Bone Inspector leaned against his staff and
watched the city thoughtfully. They sensed the spirits of the Invisible World
were beginning to venture abroad, as they always did on that night that had
come to be known as Hallowe'en, yet the small group felt no sense of threat.
"How are you doing?" Laura said to Ruth after a long period of silence,
punctuated only by the crackle of the fire. Her voice held a real tenderness that
made Ruth even more emotional after their long period of rivalry.
"At the moment I feel dead." Distractedly, she prodded the grass with a
stick, before releasing a juddering sigh. "And I know it's going to get worse
before it gets better. I know we won ... I know the whole world benefited ...
but the price we paid seems so high."
Laura tossed more wood on the fire, though it hardly needed it. "You can
talk about Church, you know."
"Thanks. Really." Ruth wiped away a stray tear, smiled. "It seems so unfair.
Personally, I mean. I'm being selfish here and I know anyone else would tell me
to get some perspective-
"That is not how grief works," Shavi interjected.
"It took us so long to get together," Ruth said, "but when we did I felt
happy, truly happy, for the first time in my life. Church was always talking
about searching for meaning, and for me that was where I found meaning in my
life: in my love for him. Does that sound vomit-inducing?"
"Yes, but keep going. I need to make a space for dinner." Laura's gibe was
gentle and Ruth couldn't help laughing.
"It would have been perfect for me if we'd stayed together into old age, and I
know it's a childish thing, but sometimes you think that's reason enough for it to
keep going. But life has its own plan. I think that's when you know you've grown
up-when you can accept you have no control over anything. Church told me the
Tuatha De Danann believe everything is fluid. I suppose the mind has complete
control over everything, and that if you wish hard enough you can change reality.
Well, I wished and I wished. And he still hasn't come back to me."
Laura fumbled for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Shavi slipped an arm
round her shoulders. Overhead, a shooting star blazed across the heavens,
reminding them of other times, when they had been all together.
"All I think now is what would he have wanted me to do," Ruth said. "And
the answer's obvious: keep doing the right thing, make the world a better place,
ignore what anybody else might tell you. Emotionally, it will be hard for me,
for all of us, but that's a good reason for living. Don't you think?"
They all agreed.
"You know, I don't really want to think about this," Laura said, "but, do you
reckon he suffered? I mean, he'd been stabbed and all, I know. But that gate he
was sucked through-"
"I don't know. But even if he did he would probably say pain is transitory
and there are better things to look forward to."
"You believe that?"
"I do. Now. I'll see him again one day, I know it."
Laura remained silent for a long moment, then said, "You know Veitch and
me didn't get on. He scared me. But I think the real reason was because we were
so alike. Two losers trying to escape the past that held them back. I feel bad that
I'm here and he's not."
"Don't feel guilty." Ruth gave her arm a squeeze.
"No, Ryan would not want that." Shavi leaned forward into the firelight.
"Ryan did the best he could, but he was a victim, and that is the great tragedy
of what happened to him. Under other circumstances, he would have found his
redemption, as you did."