Jack of Ravens (7 page)

‘Should we sprout wings and fly?’ Owein asked in disbelief.

‘Let us return,’ Branwen pressed. ‘Those beasts will have departed by now. We can make our way back to Carn Euny by the light of the day.’

‘No,’ Conoran said. ‘Only here can the Giantkiller cure himself of the poison that infects him. Only here can he learn the path he must tread.’

‘Tell me, good Conoran,’ Tannis said warmly, ‘if this is a question that will not offend you: how do you know these things?’

‘The Culture has many secrets passed down to us from the First Days, when man was an infant and the rules were first carved in the earth.’

‘If we must venture on, how do we rise above ourselves?’ Etain looked around for a solution.

‘Walk.’

Once again, Church started at the same mysterious voice he had heard at the quartz stone, and as before it was for his ears only. This time he had no qualms about responding. He searched the nearest wall until he found what appeared to be a foothold. Resting his foot in the hollow, he pushed up, searching for another foothold. There was none, but he was surprised to find himself balanced effortlessly with his second foot merely touching the wall, perpendicular to the ceiling on which he had been standing, as if gravity had given up on him. The others watched uneasily as Church took
another step. His stomach did a flip as he began walking up the sheer rock face.

‘Evil!’ Branwen hissed, and made a protective sign in the air.

‘The normal rules don’t apply here,’ Church said. ‘I think you can follow me.’

Etain pressed forward without hesitation and walked up the wall until she was at Church’s side ten feet above the ceiling. The others followed hesitantly.

Finally they were standing on the floor of the upside-down room. Branwen turned to one side and vomited, before wiping her mouth and uttering a curse-word that Church didn’t understand. He realised everyone was waiting for him to lead the way, but as he cautiously headed towards the far door, the blue flames in the brazier roared up into a column of fire that reached far above their heads. Church was shocked to see a face floating in its midst.

‘Finally. You really take some prompting.’ The flames made the features swim so it was difficult for Church to get a clear view, but he had an impression of a young, clean-shaven man with short, dark hair.

‘Who are you?’ Church asked, once he had got over the unreality of talking to a pillar of fire.

‘You can call me Hal.’ The voice was English, the inflection definitely twenty-first century.

‘As in the computer in
2001: A Space Odyssey?’

‘If you like. ‘‘Open the bomb bay doors, HAL.” ’

Church knew instinctively that the being in the flames was teasing him, but there was no sense of malice. ‘It was you who told me how to get into this place, and to walk up the wall.’

‘That’s my job. Part of it, at least.’

‘And what else is your job? To drive me insane? Because everything else that’s happened to me recently seems to be trying to do that.’

The features were disrupted by a surge of flame, and the voice fizzed and receded before returning, as if echoing through vast, empty halls. ‘I’m here to help you, Church.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I know everything about you. Everything about everything. Well, at least to the point where the dark and the light converge, but that’s another story.’

‘If you know so much, tell me what’s been taken from my memory.’

Hal faded again, and when he returned Church thought he detected a note of sadness in his voice. ‘Not so long ago I would have told you everything you wanted to know, but now … I can see the bigger picture.’

Church laughed derisively.

‘You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t blame you for that. It’s all a matter of perspective. What I’ve learned is that not-knowing is part of
knowing. That sounds like some kind of double-speak, but it’s not. The only way we learn and change and grow – because that’s what life is all about, and believe me, this is
really
about life – is by experiencing the journey ourselves.’

‘You sound like some fairground medium,’ Church said.

‘I’m sorry, but somehow the real, basic truths always end up coming across like that. I think it’s our built-in cynical streak.’

‘Our?’ Church thought he glimpsed a flicker of a smile in the blue.

‘Let me put it another way,’ Hal continued. ‘When your mother told you, “Don’t touch, it’s hot,” did you listen? Course you didn’t, because it’s a fact of life that nobody learns anything important by being told. You have to feel the pain yourself.’

‘That’s reassuring.’

‘All I’m saying, Church, is that you’re on a journey of discovery on lots of different levels. And what you’ll learn about yourself will be just as important as the facts you uncover.’ Again the note of sadness. ‘If I told you what you needed to know, you’d only get half of the equation.’

‘So basically you’re next to useless.’

When Hal spoke again, his voice had grown grave. ‘You’re on a long journey. A long,
long
journey, and it won’t be easy. I could save you a lot of hardship along the way, but there will be times when you can go down one path or another, and you’ve got to make those choices yourself or you won’t be any use when you get to the end of the road.’

‘And what am I supposed to do when I arrive?’

Another pause during which the shadows in the room appeared to grow darker. ‘Storm clouds are gathering, Church. That’s another cliché, but it’s the best way I can describe it. If you don’t believe in Evil, Church, Evil as a force of intelligence, you ought to start now. It’s gathering its strength, waiting for the right moment. Everything’s at stake, Church – everything you believe in, everything that matters. That power knows you’re a threat to it—’

‘Me?’ Church said incredulously.

‘And you are. It’ll do anything to stop you. Even now it’s searching, scanning Existence, sending its agents out to track you down. In fact, you’ve met some of them already—’

‘The Redcaps.’

‘They don’t act alone. You’ll soon find out how widespread that threat is, and exactly what you’re facing. Stand firm, Church. Don’t turn away. Existence needs you. According to what I know about you, I reckon you’ll make the right choices along the way.’

‘But you can’t be sure.’

‘No. I can’t.’

Church thought he saw other faces buried deeper in the flickering fire. A
feeling of hope emanated from them. ‘Is there anything you can tell me that will help?’

‘Not now. But you’ll encounter me again. There’ll be moments when you’ll really need me, and then I’ll try to do what I can.’

‘That’s if I make it that far. I’m dying—’

‘It’s a spiritual poison. The Enemy landed a lucky blow when you first dropped into this place – one of its agents stuck you with a black spider. The aim was to get you off the board right away. Your resilience has brought you this far. If you walk through that door, you’ll find what you need to clear the poison. You won’t get back the memories it stole, but you’ll be ready for the fight.’

Church eyed the door with uncertainty. The real dangers clearly lay in the things Hal could not bring himself to say.

‘Go through the door, Church. Take the first step on your quest. You’ve got a vast gulf to cross and a million hardships to overcome before you can rest. Just one word of advice: when things get darkest, don’t turn away from the light. Don’t ever give up hope. If you do, you’re gone. All is lost.’

The column of fire retreated into the brazier, and Hal’s voice was replaced by a ringing silence. The others were examining the Celtic motifs on the wall, and Church got the impression that the whole conversation with Hal had happened in a fraction of a second.

13

The door was made of polished granite. Church couldn’t imagine who had made it, or constructed the chamber in which they stood. In the centre of the door at head height was a graven image of a serpent eating its own tail: an ouroboros, an ancient symbol for the cyclical and eternal nature of life. Level with his waist were the imprints of five hands of varying sizes. Church’s own hand fitted the central imprint perfectly, but none of the others. There was no handle on the door.

‘I think we each need to put a hand here,’ Church mused. ‘The door could be fitted with some kind of balance. The right pressure might move it.’

When there was no response, he looked back. Tannis, Owein, Etain and Branwen stared at the door apprehensively. Conoran watched Church with a cold, expectant eye.

‘What’s wrong?’ Church asked.

‘It has the mark of the dragon,’ Owein said.

‘You must enter alone. We will not follow.’ Branwen rubbed her hands together feverishly.

‘I can’t do it on my own.’ A rush of nausea from the poison swept
through him. ‘All right, just help me push the door open. I’ll go in alone.’ The look of fear in their faces made him feel guilty; he had forgotten that for all their emotional and intellectual sophistication, they were still the product of superstitious times.

Conoran pointed one slender finger at Church. ‘If they open the door they must enter.’

‘You know more than you’re saying.’ The poison and disorientation made Church snap with irritation.

Conoran’s eyes glowed with a cold light that made Church regret his tone.

‘You haven’t come this far just for me,’ he said to the others. The delirium was growing worse again. ‘You’ve done it for your people. You think I can help defend them against the gods, and you may be right. But if you walk away now, I won’t be able to do anything because I’ll be dead. And what will happen then if the gods return?’ Church felt a twinge at the shameless emotional manipulation, but he could see in their eyes that it was working.

‘Your family and friends need you. Your tribe needs you,’ he continued. ‘I know you’re scared of what lies ahead, but I’ll stand with you. You’ve seen me fight. You know what I can do with this.’ He touched the sword, which sang quietly in response. ‘Together we can survive this. Didn’t I help you escape the Redcaps?’ He ran out of steam as poison-pain burned his heart, but he could see he had done enough. Conoran was smiling.

Tannis stepped forward and pressed his right hand into a snugly fitting hollow. ‘I stand with you, Jack, Giantkiller.’ He smiled warmly, all trace of fear expunged now that he had made his choice.

‘And I.’ Etain’s smile was shy, but her eyes blazed when she looked at Church.

Owein followed suit, and then finally – reluctantly – Branwen. All of their hands fitted perfectly into one or other of the hollows.

‘Almost as if it was meant to be,’ Conoran said wryly.

A short period of anticipation gave way to a crackle of blue sparks as the door swung open.

‘I await your return,’ Conoran said.

Church braced himself, then crossed the threshold.

What had appeared to be simply entering another room felt like moving to a different place entirely. The clammy underground air was replaced by a balmy summer warmth. Sand crunched beneath Church’s feet and a night sky dappled with unfamiliar constellations hung overhead. Gradually, he became accustomed to his surroundings. A hot breeze brought with it the scent of steaming vegetation. Ahead he could see palm trees silhouetted against the sky: an oasis; a garden.

‘Where are we?’ Etain whispered in awe.

‘The desert, I think,’ Church said.

A blue light amongst the trees pulled them towards it. The others drew their weapons with trepidation.

Church pushed through spiky-leaved bushes until he arrived at a lake. But instead of water it was filled with Blue Fire moving as though it were a liquid. A dark shape swam sinuously in its depths, but Church’s attention was drawn to a woman who stood in the centre of the lake, seemingly on the very surface of the flaming energy. Her skin was pale, her hair black, her eyes as blue as the fire.

‘Greetings, Quincunx.’ Church flinched; though the woman’s lips had moved, the voice was deep like a man’s, perhaps not quite human. ‘The first of many,’ she continued with a smile.

The surface behind her broke and a head rose on a long serpentine neck. It had scales and tines and horns and a form that reminded Church of pictures in books he had read as a child. Fire licked around its open mouth, and beneath the surface leathern wings were just visible amongst the coils of its body. Yet the strangest thing was that the creature appeared to be made of the Blue Fire itself. Now and then, Church glimpsed its vascular system beneath the flickering sapphire skin.

Behind Church, the others cowered. ‘Strike it now,’ Branwen hissed, ‘before it slays us with its breath.’

‘Do not be afraid,’ the woman said, and it seemed to Church that the beast was somehow speaking through her. ‘I am here to give you knowledge and purpose.’

‘Can you cure me?’ Church asked.

The woman and the beast jointly turned their attention to him. ‘You are filled with the black poison of the Devourer of All Things. Your time is nearly done.’ A pause, then: ‘Step forward.’

Church obeyed. Etain and Tannis leaped forward to prevent Church from burning himself in the flames, but he was surprised to find the Blue Fire cool. Euphoria rushed through him, and he could feel the poison being scoured from his system.