Always Forever (50 page)

The scene inside the vast cabin was shocking enough to take the edge off their
charge the moment they crossed the threshold. The Tuatha De Danann had been
herded to one end of the room, where they were guarded by several prowling
Fomorii. The Golden Ones were on their knees, humbled, eyes fixed dead ahead.
The scene reminded Church of old pictures from the Second World War, of
Nazis guarding brutalised POWs. Niamh was at the front, pale and worried,
but there was no sign of Ruth.

The attention of the gods was fixed on Manannan-at least Church presumed it was Manannan-and at the glowing geometric shape he had seen when
he had probed the mind of the Night Walker. Three Fomorii had Wave
Sweeper's Master bound across the enormous desk, where several monstrous
implements appeared to have been used to torture him. It was impossible to tell
the exact use of the instruments, which resembled bear traps and hand drills,
but they had obviously had a profound effect on the Master. He had lost his
familiar shape. The body was blurred and pulsing, leaking light in dazzling
beams, and the face was like a running mixture of oil and water.

Church couldn't believe the Fomorii had overwhelmed Manannan, one of
the most powerful of the gods. The only explanation was that he had been forced
to succumb because of the Wish-Hex; yet he had still patently resisted attempts
to coerce him to take Wave Sweeper to the Court of High Regard.

Even to glance at the Wish-Hex made Church feel queasy. It looked like a
system of interlocking cubes and triangles and pentagons made of light, hovering in midair, but at some point all the elements seemed to disappear into a
different dimension.

By the time he took this in, the Fomorii were aware of their presence. Five
of the Night Walkers rushed at once, the others preparing to follow.

Church looked to Baccharus to use the Wish-Sword. To his horror, he saw
the god's thumb wavering over the gem. Why is he holding back? Church thought
until a shocking thought ripped through him. Perhaps Baccharus was a traitor.
In the pay of the Fomorii. He was going to give Church up to the enemy. Was
that what Callow had been trying to tell him?

At the last moment, Baccharus did thumb the trigger. The blue fire built
quicker than it had with Church, but it did not burn so brightly. It surged
through the Fomorii, creating a chain of blue balls of light where it passed
through the Night Walkers' chests. Four, five, six, all writhing in the brilliant
arc light. But with each one it possessed, the light grew a little dimmer, and then Church realised Baccharus's strategy: he had been waiting for the Fomorii
to get close enough for the force to strike them all. Eight, nine, ten. The light
dying now.

Come on, Church prayed silently. Only five more.

Twelve, thirteen. But after it had passed through the fourteenth, the light
faltered, then died. The corpses of the Fomorii fell to the ground, crumbling
into a black dust.

The single surviving Night Walker was already moving. He reached the
Wish-Hex before anyone in the room could react.

Niamh dashed over to Manannan and loosed the shackles. As she helped
him up, his body and features gradually returned to the form Church knew, but
his body was still leaking too much light. He didn't have the strength to help.

The Night Walker positioned himself with one arm on either side of the
Wish-Hex. Church removed his sword and weakly moved forward, hoping he
didn't look as impotent as he felt.

"Hold." Baccharus waved Church back frantically. "The foul beast will
trigger the Wish-Hex if you approach."

"It can't hope to get anything. What's it going to do? Commit suicide?"

"It will destroy us all, and itself, in the blink of an eye. But it does not want
to waste the Wish-Hex. The Fomorii will not be able to create another one in
the near future."

"A standoff."

"We will never take this foul beast to the Green Isles of Enchantment."
Niamh was speaking with pride. "We will see ourselves wiped from the face of
existence first."

The Night Walker appeared to understand her words, for he brought his
hands closer to the Wish-Hex. It began to throb; the light turned scarlet, then
black. A faint tremor ran across Niamh's face, but she did not back down.

The Wish-Hex glowed brighter and brighter. The unease it radiated became
more intense, turning Church's stomach, making him inexplicably want to cry.
This is the end? he thought in disbelief.

And then the strangest thing happened. The Night Walker tripped backwards. The light surrounding the Wish-Hex began to die. The Fomor fought to
get back to the weapon, but it stumbled, and then it propelled itself in the
direction of Church.

In that moment, the empty space where the Night Walker had been was
suddenly occupied. Astonishingly, Church realised he was looking at Ruth, her
face anxious, fearful, but with a rising note of triumph.

The Night Walker turned at speed to rush back to the Wish-Hex. Church didn't even think. He drove his sword into the base of its skull, cleaving the
beast's head in two. And then when it hit the floor, he waited for a second before
splattering the Caraprix the moment it left the corpse.

A cry rose up from the assembled Tuatha De Danann-not just triumph,
but also gratitude, directed at him, and Ruth. Directed at Fragile Creatures.

He threw his steaming sword to one side and rushed over to Ruth, throwing
his arm around her waist.

"Well, aren't you Mr. Testosterone." She held her head back from him, grinning. "See, even the sensitive ones can't wait to let it out."

"What was that all about? How did you do that? Where did you come
from?"

"I am a woman of many talents and great fortitude and you are very, very
lucky to have me."

While the Tuatha lle Danann tended to Manannan's wounds, feeding him the
strange drink Ruth and Church had sampled earlier, the two of them sat next to
the window where they could watch the storm.

"It was something the familiar taught me," she said as she cupped his hand
loosely between hers. "To avoid being seen in plain sight. But you can't keep it up for
long, and it doesn't really work if anyone is actively looking for you, but-"

"How much more have you got in your bag of tricks?"

"I don't really know." She fixed an eye on him. "What's the matter? Scared?"

"Should I be?"

"I'ni scared."

"That's understandable-it's powerful stuff. But Cernunnos and his partner
wouldn't have invested it in you if they didn't trust you to do a good job with it."

This comforted her a little. "We're all becoming something, aren't we?"

"I think we're achieving the potential we always had. I think everybody has
great potential, but necessity is the greatest motivator for discovering it."

"Stop it. You're starting to sound like an optimist." She smiled shyly. "I was
worried about you."

He gave her hand a squeeze. "It's made things worse."

"What do you mean?"

"Before, I had only myself to worry about, and let's face it, I didn't worry
too much. Now I can't stop worrying about you. All the time."

"You're saying that's too much of a price to pay?"

"No. I'm saying it's given me even more of an impetus to find some way out
of this mess so we can get back to our lives." He felt a deep yearning for the normality he had once taken for granted. "I want to lie in bed on Sunday morning with you, wander out for a lazy lunch. I want to feel what it's like just to do
nothing with someone you love."

She looked surprised. "Do you love me?"

"Yes." And he realised in that moment, for the first time, that he truly did,
and that it was a feeling as potent as he had had for Marianne.

"Brother and Sister of Dragons." The interruption came from Baccharus,
who was bowing formally. "The Master requests your presence."

"Oh, we're back to requests, are we?" Ruth said under her breath. From the
colour of her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes, Church could tell he had
touched her deeply.

Baccharus led them to Manannan who rested in a large, high-backed chair.
The light no longer broke out of his form, but his face had a weary cast. Even
so, he brightened perceptibly when he laid eyes on Church and Ruth. It was
strange to see any emotion on that normally impassive face, never mind something as subtle and human as gratitude.

"Brother and Sister of Dragons, you have my thanks for the part you have
played this day. Amongst the Golden Ones there is a hard-held belief that we
are the pinnacle of creation, a part of the fundament of existence. And with that
belief is the certain knowledge that all other creatures lie beneath us. Some
would argue this is reason enough to treat all other races with contempt. They
are beasts of the field, and we are shepherds. But you have shown this day that
Fragile Creatures are not so fragile, that you have the facility to climb the ladder
of existence, even to rub shoulders with the Golden Ones. The signs are true.
No more the centre path. This is my belief. And I mark it with this." Manannan
beckoned them forward, then gently took their hands in turn. His fingers felt
like cold light; insubstantial, ghostly. There were faint sounds of surprise from
some of the gathered gods, but when Manannan levelled his heavy gaze slowly
around the room, the murmurings died away sharply.

"You will have my support in your undertaking, Brother and Sister of
Dragons. My voice carries weight. The Golden Ones shall heed your call. This
is the day the seasons have turned once more. This is the time. The Night
Walkers shall be cleansed from existence."

He spoke with such authority, Church almost believed him.

his is crazy! We can't sit here forever!" Laura hurled the empty baked
beans tin across the warehouse.

The Bone Inspector winced at the clattering echoes bouncing around the
vast, empty space. "What do you suggest, then? Going out there and asking
them nicely if you can go home?" He snorted contemptuously, wiping the bean
juice from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Laura paced around the embers of the fire, her irritation turning to curiosity
at the unfamiliar emotions growing inside her. For months she had been arguing
with the others about running away from their obligations; now she couldn't do
it even if she wanted. "The responsibility's on us to find a way out," she said
firmly. She realised the Bone Inspector was watching her with a strange expression. "What?"

"Nothing." He slurped some more beans. "I always thought you were the
weak link who'd bring everything down."

"You and me both." She wandered over to one of the dirty windows.
Smearing a patch clear, she watched the Fomorii scurrying along the banks of
the Thames as they went about their mysterious tasks. The view was sickening,
but strangely hypnotic. In another moment or two, though, another notion
began to creep in. She turned to the Bone Inspector with a confident smile and
said, "Okay, here's the plan."

The river had the dank, sour smell of rotting vegetation. Under the night sky,
the water looked almost black as it lapped languidly against the creaking
wharves. A hint of frost sparkled all around; it was the coldest night so far. Laura
lay on the sodden boards and held out a hand so the Bone Inspector could steady
himself. It had taken them three hours to find something they could use. The
boat was holed and filled with a couple of inches of water; it looked like it had
been abandoned for months. But it was big enough for them to lie in the bottom
while it drifted in the strong currents out of the city and towards the sea.

After ten minutes of splashing and cursing, the Bone Inspector finished
plugging the hole with the oily rags they had brought from the warehouse.

"Do you think it'll hold? I don't fancy swimming in this weather."

"How should I know?" he snapped. "I'm not a shipwright."

"No. What you are is-"

"Just get in the boat."

She lowered herself down to the tiny pebbly beach where plastic bottles and
old ropes formed a trail along the water line. She was still amazed they had managed to avoid the Fomorii. They had encountered several large groups of them
moving silently through the dark streets, but had always had time to find cover.
She hoped it was a sign luck was on their side.

Once they had baled out as much as they could, they pushed the boat out
into the freezing shallows, then jumped aboard. Water had already started to
trickle into the bottom.

"We should stay near the banks," the Bone Inspector said.

"There'll be too much chance of being seen."

"This river has powerful currents. If we go down in the middle of it, we
won't stand a chance."

"All right. But if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

They guided the boat into the current with a broken plank and then lay
down in the bottom, watching the stars pass overhead.